A load would sink a navy. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.

A load would sink a navy. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Banish plump Jack, and banish all the world. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.

Banish plump Jack, and banish all the world. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.

I do desire we may be better strangers. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.

I do desire we may be better strangers. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.

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.

Small have continual plodders ever won Save base authority from others' books. These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights That give read more

Small have continual plodders ever won Save base authority from others' books. These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights That give a name to every fixed star Have no more profit of their shining nights Than those that walk and wot not what they are. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.

O, I have passed a miserable night, So full of ugly sights, of ghastly dreams, That, as I am a read more

O, I have passed a miserable night, So full of ugly sights, of ghastly dreams, That, as I am a Christian faithful man, I would not spend another such a night, Though 't were to buy a world of happy days. -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 4.

O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend The brightest heaven of invention! -King Henry V. Prologue.

O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend The brightest heaven of invention! -King Henry V. Prologue.

Few of the university pen plaies well, they smell too much of
that writer Ovid and that writer Metamorphosis read more

Few of the university pen plaies well, they smell too much of
that writer Ovid and that writer Metamorphosis and talk too much
of Prosperpina and Jupiter. Why, here's our fellow Shakespeare
puts them all down. Aye, and Ben Jonson too. O that B.J. is a
pestilent fellow, he brought up Horace giving poets a pill, but
our fellow, Shakespeare, hath given him a purge that made him
beray his credit.

A lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act iii. Sc. 1.

A lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act iii. Sc. 1.