Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and Are melted into air, read more

Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and Are melted into air, into thin air: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on; and our little life Is rounded with a sleep. -The Tempest. Act iv. Sc. 1.

Nor sequent centuries could hit
Orbit and sum of Shakespeare's wit.

Nor sequent centuries could hit
Orbit and sum of Shakespeare's wit.

Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reap'd Showed like a stubble-land at harvest-home; He was perfumed like a read more

Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reap'd Showed like a stubble-land at harvest-home; He was perfumed like a milliner, And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held A pouncet-box, which ever and anon He gave his nose and took 't away again. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 3.

The Retort Courteous;… the Quip Modest;… the Reply Churlish;… the Reproof Valiant;… the Countercheck Quarrelsome;… the Lie with Circumstance;… the read more

The Retort Courteous;… the Quip Modest;… the Reply Churlish;… the Reproof Valiant;… the Countercheck Quarrelsome;… the Lie with Circumstance;… the Lie Direct. -As You Like It. Act v. Sc. 4.

And thus I clothe my naked villany With old odd ends stolen out of holy writ, And seem a saint read more

And thus I clothe my naked villany With old odd ends stolen out of holy writ, And seem a saint when most I play the devil. -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 3.

Deeper than did ever plummet sound I 'll drown my book. -The Tempest. Act v. Sc. 1.

Deeper than did ever plummet sound I 'll drown my book. -The Tempest. Act v. Sc. 1.

And wiped our eyes Of drops that sacred pity hath engender'd. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

And wiped our eyes Of drops that sacred pity hath engender'd. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

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.

When great poets sing,
Into the night new constellations spring,
With music in the air that dulls read more

When great poets sing,
Into the night new constellations spring,
With music in the air that dulls the craft
Of rhetoric. So when Shakespeare sang or laughed
The world with long, sweet Alpine echoes thrilled
Voiceless to scholars' tongues no muse had filled
With melody divine.