The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept. -Measure for Measure. Act ii. Sc. 2.

The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept. -Measure for Measure. Act ii. Sc. 2.

Like a fair house, built on another man's ground. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 2.

Like a fair house, built on another man's ground. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 2.

Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor. -King Richard II. Act ii. Sc. 3.

Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor. -King Richard II. Act ii. Sc. 3.

I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. -King Henry V. Act iii. Sc. 1.

I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. -King Henry V. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, Or close the wall up with our English dead! In peace read more

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, Or close the wall up with our English dead! In peace there 's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility; But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger: Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood. -King Henry V. Act iii. Sc. 1.

I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. read more

I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act iv. Sc. 1.

From the still-vexed Bermoothes. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.

From the still-vexed Bermoothes. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.

'T is beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on: Lady, you are read more

'T is beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on: Lady, you are the cruell'st she alive If you will lead these graces to the grave And leave the world no copy. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 5.

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.