Sits the wind in that corner? -Much Ado about Nothing. Act ii. Sc. 3.

Sits the wind in that corner? -Much Ado about Nothing. Act ii. Sc. 3.

Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on,—how then? Can honour set read more

Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on,—how then? Can honour set to a leg? no: or an arm? no: or take away the grief of a wound? no. Honour hath no skill in surgery, then? no. What is honour? a word. What is in that word honour; what is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? he that died o' Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? no. 'T is insensible, then? yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living? no. Why? detraction will not suffer it. Therefore I 'll none of it. Honour is a mere scutcheon. And so ends my catechism. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. Sc. 1.

I love a ballad in print o' life, for then we are sure they are true. -The Winter's Tale. Act read more

I love a ballad in print o' life, for then we are sure they are true. -The Winter's Tale. Act iv. Sc. 4.

I 'll tickle your catastrophe. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act ii. Sc. 1.

I 'll tickle your catastrophe. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act ii. Sc. 1.

And rail'd on Lady Fortune in good terms, In good set terms. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

And rail'd on Lady Fortune in good terms, In good set terms. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

And oftentimes excusing of a fault Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse. -King John. Act iv. Sc. read more

And oftentimes excusing of a fault Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse. -King John. Act iv. Sc. 2.

Thus ornament is but the guiled shore To a most dangerous sea. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Thus ornament is but the guiled shore To a most dangerous sea. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 2.

And telling me, the sovereign'st thing on earth Was parmaceti for an inward bruise; And that it was great pity, read more

And telling me, the sovereign'st thing on earth Was parmaceti for an inward bruise; And that it was great pity, so it was, This villanous saltpetre should be digg'd Out of the bowels of the harmless earth, Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd So cowardly; and but for these vile guns, He would himself have been a soldier. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 3.

O, good old man, how well in thee appears The constant service of the antique world, When service sweat for read more

O, good old man, how well in thee appears The constant service of the antique world, When service sweat for duty, not for meed! Thou art not for the fashion of these times, Where none will sweat but for promotion. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 3.