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By my penny of observation. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iii. Sc. 1.
By my penny of observation. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iii. Sc. 1.
Every one can master a grief but he that has it. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 2.
Every one can master a grief but he that has it. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 2.
A poor lone woman. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act ii. Sc. 1.
A poor lone woman. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act ii. Sc. 1.
All lovers swear more performance than they are able, and yet reserve an ability that they never perform; vowing more read more
All lovers swear more performance than they are able, and yet reserve an ability that they never perform; vowing more than the perfection of ten, and discharging less than the tenth part of one. -Troilus and Cressida. Act iii. Sc. 2.
The tongues of dying men Enforce attention like deep harmony. -King Richard II. Act ii. Sc. 1.
The tongues of dying men Enforce attention like deep harmony. -King Richard II. Act ii. Sc. 1.
Neither rhyme nor reason. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.
Neither rhyme nor reason. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.
The cankers of a calm world and a long peace. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iv. Sc. 2.
The cankers of a calm world and a long peace. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iv. Sc. 2.
Come not within the measure of my wrath. -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act v. Sc. 4.
Come not within the measure of my wrath. -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act v. Sc. 4.
Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender read more
Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him; The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root, And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured, Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory, But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride At length broke under me and now has left me, Weary and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must forever hide me. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye: I feel my heart new opened. O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours! There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have: And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.
