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Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two grains read more
Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff: you shall seek all day ere you find them, and when you have them, they are not worth the search. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 1.
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.
All impediments in fancy's course Are motives of more fancy. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act v. Sc. 3.
All impediments in fancy's course Are motives of more fancy. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act v. Sc. 3.
Lord, Lord! methought, what pain it was to drown! What dreadful noise of waters in mine ears! What ugly sights read more
Lord, Lord! methought, what pain it was to drown! What dreadful noise of waters in mine ears! What ugly sights of death within mine eyes! Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks, Ten thousand men that fishes gnawed upon, Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl, Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels, All scattered in the bottom of the sea: Some lay in dead men's skulls; and in those holes Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept, As 't were in scorn of eyes, reflecting gems. -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 4.
Main chance. -King Henry VI. Part II. Act i. Sc. 1.
Main chance. -King Henry VI. Part II. Act i. Sc. 1.
By my penny of observation. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iii. Sc. 1.
By my penny of observation. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iii. Sc. 1.
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.
An old man, broken with the storms of state, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye: Give him read more
An old man, broken with the storms of state, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye: Give him a little earth for charity! -King Henry VIII. Act iv. Sc. 2.
Must I hold a candle to my shames? -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 6.
Must I hold a candle to my shames? -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 6.
