How now, foolish rheum! -King John. Act iv. Sc. 1.

How now, foolish rheum! -King John. Act iv. Sc. 1.

Let me take you a button-hole lower. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 2.

Let me take you a button-hole lower. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 2.

Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes: Nothing read more

Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes: Nothing of him that doth fade But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.

My heart Is true as steel. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act ii. Sc. 1.

My heart Is true as steel. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act ii. Sc. 1.

Unless experience be a jewel. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 2.

Unless experience be a jewel. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 2.

Down on your knees, And thank Heaven, fasting, for a good man's love. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. read more

Down on your knees, And thank Heaven, fasting, for a good man's love. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 5.

Poor deer, quoth he, thou makest a testament As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more To that which had read more

Poor deer, quoth he, thou makest a testament As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more To that which had too much. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 1.

Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that read more

Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that loured upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths, Our bruised arms hung up for monuments, Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front; And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass; I, that am rudely stamped, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them,— Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun. -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 1.

Your If is the only peacemaker; much virtue in If. -As You Like It. Act v. Sc. 4.

Your If is the only peacemaker; much virtue in If. -As You Like It. Act v. Sc. 4.