Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun; it shines everywhere. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun; it shines everywhere. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 1.

The stream of Time, which is continually washing the dissoluble
fabrics of other poets, passes without injury by the read more

The stream of Time, which is continually washing the dissoluble
fabrics of other poets, passes without injury by the adamant of
Shakespeare.

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.

I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated To closeness and the bettering of my mind. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. read more

I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated To closeness and the bettering of my mind. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.

That would hang us, every mother's son. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 2.

That would hang us, every mother's son. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 2.

Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were but little happy, if I could say how much. -Much Ado read more

Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were but little happy, if I could say how much. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act ii. Sc. 1.

When daisies pied and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver-white, And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with read more

When daisies pied and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver-white, And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 2.

What, my dear Lady Disdain! are you yet living? -Much Ado about Nothing. Act i. Sc. 1.

What, my dear Lady Disdain! are you yet living? -Much Ado about Nothing. Act i. Sc. 1.

If ladies be but young and fair, They have the gift to know it; and in his brain, Which is read more

If ladies be but young and fair, They have the gift to know it; and in his brain, Which is as dry as the remainder biscuit After a voyage, he hath strange places cramm'd With observation, the which he vents In mangled forms. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.