I am sure care 's an enemy to life. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 3.

I am sure care 's an enemy to life. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 3.

Winding up days with toil and nights with sleep. -King Henry V. Act iv. Sc. 1.

Winding up days with toil and nights with sleep. -King Henry V. Act iv. Sc. 1.

I never tempted her with word too large, But, as a brother to his sister, show'd Bashful sincerity and comely read more

I never tempted her with word too large, But, as a brother to his sister, show'd Bashful sincerity and comely love. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iv. Sc. 1.

Thus far into the bowels of the land Have we marched on without impediment. -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. read more

Thus far into the bowels of the land Have we marched on without impediment. -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. 2.

'T is all men's office to speak patience To those that wring under the load of sorrow, But no man's read more

'T is all men's office to speak patience To those that wring under the load of sorrow, But no man's virtue nor sufficiency To be so moral when he shall endure The like himself. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. Sc. 1.

Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reap'd Showed like a stubble-land at harvest-home; He was perfumed like a read more

Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reap'd Showed like a stubble-land at harvest-home; He was perfumed like a milliner, And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held A pouncet-box, which ever and anon He gave his nose and took 't away again. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 3.

Wherefore are these things hid? -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 3.

Wherefore are these things hid? -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 3.

The hand that hath made you fair hath made you good. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.

The hand that hath made you fair hath made you good. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.

By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon, Or dive into the read more

By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon, Or dive into the bottom of the deep, Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, And pluck up drowned honour by the locks. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 3.