Could I come near your beauty with my nails, I 'd set my ten commandments in your face. -King Henry read more

Could I come near your beauty with my nails, I 'd set my ten commandments in your face. -King Henry VI. Part II. Act i. Sc. 3.

I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men. -King Henry IV. Part read more

I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act i. Sc. 2.

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here we will sit and let the sounds of music Creep in read more

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here we will sit and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold: There 's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins. Such harmony is in immortal souls; But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.

I do know of these That therefore only are reputed wise For saying nothing. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. read more

I do know of these That therefore only are reputed wise For saying nothing. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 1.

O, how this spring of love resembleth The uncertain glory of an April day! -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act read more

O, how this spring of love resembleth The uncertain glory of an April day! -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act i. Sc. 3.

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.

Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age read more

Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.

There, Shakespeare, on whose forehead climb
The crowns o' the world. Oh, eyes sublime
With tears and read more

There, Shakespeare, on whose forehead climb
The crowns o' the world. Oh, eyes sublime
With tears and laughter for all time.

Oh, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful In the contempt and anger of his lip! -Twelfth Night. Act iii. read more

Oh, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful In the contempt and anger of his lip! -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 1.