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For aught that I could ever read, Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never read more
For aught that I could ever read, Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 1.
All things that are, Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd. How like a younker or a prodigal The scarfed read more
All things that are, Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd. How like a younker or a prodigal The scarfed bark puts from her native bay, Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind! How like the prodigal doth she return, With over-weather'd ribs and ragged sails, Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind! -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 6.
The fashion wears out more apparel than the man. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.
The fashion wears out more apparel than the man. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.
The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet. -King Richard II. Act i. Sc. 3.
The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet. -King Richard II. Act i. Sc. 3.
As in a theatre, the eyes of men, After a well-graced actor leaves the stage, Are idly bent on him read more
As in a theatre, the eyes of men, After a well-graced actor leaves the stage, Are idly bent on him that enters next, Thinking his prattle to be tedious. -King Richard II. Act v. Sc. 2.
The gentleman is not in your books. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act i. Sc. 1.
The gentleman is not in your books. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act i. Sc. 1.
There, Shakespeare, on whose forehead climb
The crowns o' the world. Oh, eyes sublime
With tears and read more
There, Shakespeare, on whose forehead climb
The crowns o' the world. Oh, eyes sublime
With tears and laughter for all time.
Love sought is good, but given unsought is better. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 1.
Love sought is good, but given unsought is better. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 1.
Here are a few of the unpleasant'st words That ever blotted paper! -The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 2.
Here are a few of the unpleasant'st words That ever blotted paper! -The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 2.
