You May Also Like / View all maxioms
Think of that, Master Brook. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act iii. Sc. 5.
Think of that, Master Brook. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act iii. Sc. 5.
Except I be by Sylvia in the night, There is no music in the nightingale. -The Two Gentleman of Verona. read more
Except I be by Sylvia in the night, There is no music in the nightingale. -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act iii. Sc. 1.
Lord, Lord, how this world is given to lying! I grant you I was down and out of breath; and read more
Lord, Lord, how this world is given to lying! I grant you I was down and out of breath; and so was he. But we rose both at an instant, and fought a long hour by Shrewsbury clock. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. Sc. 4.
When daisies pied and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver-white, And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with read more
When daisies pied and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver-white, And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 2.
I have a kind of alacrity in sinking. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act iii. Sc. 5.
I have a kind of alacrity in sinking. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act iii. Sc. 5.
Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast. -The Comedy of Errors. Act iii. Sc. 1.
Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast. -The Comedy of Errors. Act iii. Sc. 1.
This England never did, nor never shall, Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror. -King John. Act v. Sc. read more
This England never did, nor never shall, Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror. -King John. Act v. Sc. 7.
This is Ercles' vein. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 2.
This is Ercles' vein. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 2.
The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for read more
The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus. Let no such man be trusted. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.
