Let us make an honourable retreat. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Let us make an honourable retreat. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once; And He that might the vantage best have took Found out read more

Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once; And He that might the vantage best have took Found out the remedy. How would you be, If He, which is the top of judgment, should But judge you as you are? -Measure for Measure. Act ii. Sc. 2.

He dies, and makes no sign. -King Henry VI. Part II. Act iii. Sc. 3.

He dies, and makes no sign. -King Henry VI. Part II. Act iii. Sc. 3.

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. -King Henry V. Act iv. Sc. 3.

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. -King Henry V. Act iv. Sc. 3.

'T is not for gravity to play at cherry-pit with Satan. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.

'T is not for gravity to play at cherry-pit with Satan. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.

For a good poet's made, as well as born,
And such wast thou! Look how the father's face
read more

For a good poet's made, as well as born,
And such wast thou! Look how the father's face
Lives in his issue; even so the race
Of Shakespeare's mind and manner brightly shine
In his well-turned and true-filed lines;
In each of which he seems to shake a lance,
As brandished at the eyes of ignorance.

This figure that thou here seest put,
It was for gentle Shakespeare cut,
Wherein the graver had read more

This figure that thou here seest put,
It was for gentle Shakespeare cut,
Wherein the graver had a strife
With Nature, to outdo the life:
Oh, could he but have drawn his wit
As well in brass, as he has hit
His face, the print would then surpass
All that was ever writ in brass;
But since he cannot, reader, look
Not on his picture, but his book.

Thyself and thy belongings Are not thine own so proper as to waste Thyself upon thy virtues, they on thee. read more

Thyself and thy belongings Are not thine own so proper as to waste Thyself upon thy virtues, they on thee. Heaven doth with us as we with torches do, Not light them for themselves; for if our virtues Did not go forth of us, 't were all alike As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'd But to fine issues, nor Nature never lends The smallest scruple of her excellence But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines Herself the glory of a creditor, Both thanks and use. -Measure for Measure. Act i. Sc. 1.

Thou art the Mars of malcontents. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. 3.

Thou art the Mars of malcontents. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. 3.