At my fingers' ends. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 3.

At my fingers' ends. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 3.

Give me another horse: bind up my wounds. -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. 3.

Give me another horse: bind up my wounds. -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. 3.

Thou wear a lion's hide! doff it for shame, And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs. -King John. Act read more

Thou wear a lion's hide! doff it for shame, And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs. -King John. Act iii. Sc. 1.

A woman moved is like a fountain troubled,— Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty. -The Taming of the Shrew. Act read more

A woman moved is like a fountain troubled,— Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty. -The Taming of the Shrew. Act v. Sc. 2.

I'll moider da bum.

I'll moider da bum.

So may he rest; his faults lie gently on him! -King Henry VIII. Act iv. Sc. 2.

So may he rest; his faults lie gently on him! -King Henry VIII. Act iv. Sc. 2.

This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid; Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms, The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans, Liege read more

This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid; Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms, The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans, Liege of all loiterers and malcontents. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iii. Sc. 1.

I have had my labour for my travail. -Troilus and Cressida. Act i. Sc. 1.

I have had my labour for my travail. -Troilus and Cressida. Act i. Sc. 1.

And nothing can we call our own but death And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as read more

And nothing can we call our own but death And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as paste and cover to our bones. For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground And tell sad stories of the death of kings. -King Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 2.