In those holy fields Over whose acres walked those blessed feet Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd For our read more

In those holy fields Over whose acres walked those blessed feet Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd For our advantage on the bitter cross. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 1.

We burn daylight. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 1.

We burn daylight. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 1.

Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, Frosty, but kindly. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 3.

Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, Frosty, but kindly. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 3.

Let 's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs. -King Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Let 's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs. -King Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind. -A Midsummer Night's read more

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 1.

We 'll have a swashing and a martial outside, As many other mannish cowards have. -As You Like It. Act read more

We 'll have a swashing and a martial outside, As many other mannish cowards have. -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 3.

Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender read more

Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him; The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root, And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured, Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory, But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride At length broke under me and now has left me, Weary and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must forever hide me. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye: I feel my heart new opened. O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours! There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have: And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.

I am a tainted wether of the flock, Meetest for death: the weakest kind of fruit Drops earliest to the read more

I am a tainted wether of the flock, Meetest for death: the weakest kind of fruit Drops earliest to the ground. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.

Faith, thou hast some crotchets in thy head now. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 1.

Faith, thou hast some crotchets in thy head now. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 1.