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    When great poets sing,
    Into the night new constellations spring,
    With music in the air that dulls the craft
    Of rhetoric. So when Shakespeare sang or laughed
    The world with long, sweet Alpine echoes thrilled
    Voiceless to scholars' tongues no muse had filled
    With melody divine.

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  8  /  9  

I 'll speak in a monstrous little voice. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 2.

I 'll speak in a monstrous little voice. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 2.

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  4  /  4  

How many things by season season'd are To their right praise and true perfection! -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. read more

How many things by season season'd are To their right praise and true perfection! -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.

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  10  /  12  

Not all the water in the rough rude sea Can wash the balm off from an anointed king. -King Richard read more

Not all the water in the rough rude sea Can wash the balm off from an anointed king. -King Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 2.

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I'll moider da bum.

I'll moider da bum.

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  7  /  10  

The rational hind Costard. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 2.

The rational hind Costard. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 2.

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  2  /  2  

Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news Hath but a losing office, and his tongue Sounds ever after as a read more

Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news Hath but a losing office, and his tongue Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, Remember'd tolling a departing friend. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act i. Sc. 1.

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  3  /  8  

You have too much respect upon the world: They lose it that do buy it with much care. -The Merchant read more

You have too much respect upon the world: They lose it that do buy it with much care. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 1.

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  5  /  5  

A merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal. -Love's Labour 's Lost. read more

A merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act ii. Sc. 1.

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Let there be gall enough in thy ink; though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. read more

Let there be gall enough in thy ink; though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 2.

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