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    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.

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  4  /  21  

He that dies pays all debts. -The Tempest. Act iii. Sc. 2.

He that dies pays all debts. -The Tempest. Act iii. Sc. 2.

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  3  /  7  

Thy ignominy sleep with thee in the grave, But not remember'd in thy epitaph! -King Henry IV. Part I. Act read more

Thy ignominy sleep with thee in the grave, But not remember'd in thy epitaph! -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. Sc. 4.

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  7  /  5  

Makes a swan-like end, Fading in music. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Makes a swan-like end, Fading in music. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 2.

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  9  /  6  

Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep. -King Henry VI. Part II. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep. -King Henry VI. Part II. Act iii. Sc. 1.

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  6  /  21  

He makes sweet music with th' enamell'd stones, Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge He overtaketh in his pilgrimage. read more

He makes sweet music with th' enamell'd stones, Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge He overtaketh in his pilgrimage. -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act ii. Sc. 7.

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Well said: that was laid on with a trowel. -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 2.

Well said: that was laid on with a trowel. -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 2.

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  2  /  11  

Lord, Lord, how this world is given to lying! I grant you I was down and out of breath; and read more

Lord, Lord, how this world is given to lying! I grant you I was down and out of breath; and so was he. But we rose both at an instant, and fought a long hour by Shrewsbury clock. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. Sc. 4.

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  6  /  4  

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.

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Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever,— One foot in sea and one on shore, To read more

Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever,— One foot in sea and one on shore, To one thing constant never. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act ii. Sc. 3.

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