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Swift as a shadow, short as any dream; Brief as the lightning in the collied night, That in a spleen read more
Swift as a shadow, short as any dream; Brief as the lightning in the collied night, That in a spleen unfolds both heaven and earth, And ere a man hath power to say, Behold! The jaws of darkness do devour it up: So quick bright things come to confusion. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 1.
He is of a very melancholy disposition. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act i. Sc. 1.
He is of a very melancholy disposition. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act i. Sc. 1.
Out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 3.
Out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 3.
Small have continual plodders ever won Save base authority from others' books. These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights That give read more
Small have continual plodders ever won Save base authority from others' books. These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights That give a name to every fixed star Have no more profit of their shining nights Than those that walk and wot not what they are. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.
As sweet and musical As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair; And when Love speaks, the voice of all read more
As sweet and musical As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair; And when Love speaks, the voice of all the gods Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 3.
A very ancient and fish-like smell. -The Tempest. Act ii. Sc. 2.
A very ancient and fish-like smell. -The Tempest. Act ii. Sc. 2.
Now you who rhyme, and I who rhyme,
Have not we sworn it, many a time,
That read more
Now you who rhyme, and I who rhyme,
Have not we sworn it, many a time,
That we no more our verse would scrawl,
For Shakespeare he had said it all!
What a taking was he in when your husband asked who was in the basket! -The Merry Wives of Windsor. read more
What a taking was he in when your husband asked who was in the basket! -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act iii. Sc. 3.
Our myriad-minded Shakespeare.
Our myriad-minded Shakespeare.
