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.

I am all the daughters of my father's house, And all the brothers too. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 4.

I am all the daughters of my father's house, And all the brothers too. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 4.

This earth that bears thee dead Bears not alive so stout a gentleman. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. read more

This earth that bears thee dead Bears not alive so stout a gentleman. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. Sc. 4.

To unpathed waters, undreamed shores. -The Winter's Tale. Act iv. Sc. 4.

To unpathed waters, undreamed shores. -The Winter's Tale. Act iv. Sc. 4.

A wretched soul, bruised with adversity. -The Comedy of Errors. Act ii. Sc. 1.

A wretched soul, bruised with adversity. -The Comedy of Errors. Act ii. Sc. 1.

Deeper than e'er plummet sounded. -The Tempest. Act iii. Sc. 3.

Deeper than e'er plummet sounded. -The Tempest. Act iii. Sc. 3.

Here comes a pair of very strange beasts, which in all tongues are called fools. -As You Like It. Act read more

Here comes a pair of very strange beasts, which in all tongues are called fools. -As You Like It. Act v. Sc. 4.

At Christmas I no more desire a rose Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled mirth; But like of each read more

At Christmas I no more desire a rose Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled mirth; But like of each thing that in season grows. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. 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.