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.
You May Also Like / View all maxioms
He was a man Of an unbounded stomach. -King Henry VIII. Act iv. Sc. 2.
He was a man Of an unbounded stomach. -King Henry VIII. Act iv. Sc. 2.
This Booke
When Brasse and Marble fade, shall make thee looke
Fresh to all Ages.
This Booke
When Brasse and Marble fade, shall make thee looke
Fresh to all Ages.
In my school-days, when I had lost one shaft, I shot his fellow of the selfsame flight The selfsame way, read more
In my school-days, when I had lost one shaft, I shot his fellow of the selfsame flight The selfsame way, with more advised watch, To find the other forth; and by adventuring both, I oft found both. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 1.
A snapper-up of unconsidered trifles. -The Winter's Tale. Act iv. Sc. 3.
A snapper-up of unconsidered trifles. -The Winter's Tale. Act iv. Sc. 3.
I thought upon one pair of English legs Did march three Frenchmen. -King Henry V. Act iii. Sc. 6.
I thought upon one pair of English legs Did march three Frenchmen. -King Henry V. Act iii. Sc. 6.
The tongues of dying men Enforce attention like deep harmony. -King Richard II. Act ii. Sc. 1.
The tongues of dying men Enforce attention like deep harmony. -King Richard II. Act ii. Sc. 1.
Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast, Ready with every nod to tumble down. -King Richard III. Act iii. read more
Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast, Ready with every nod to tumble down. -King Richard III. Act iii. Sc. 4.
All things that are, Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd. How like a younker or a prodigal The scarfed read more
All things that are, Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd. How like a younker or a prodigal The scarfed bark puts from her native bay, Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind! How like the prodigal doth she return, With over-weather'd ribs and ragged sails, Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind! -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 6.
Are you good men and true? -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.
Are you good men and true? -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.
