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A lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act iii. Sc. 1.
A lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act iii. Sc. 1.
Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we ascribe to Heaven. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act i. read more
Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we ascribe to Heaven. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act i. Sc. 1.
All lovers swear more performance than they are able, and yet reserve an ability that they never perform; vowing more read more
All lovers swear more performance than they are able, and yet reserve an ability that they never perform; vowing more than the perfection of ten, and discharging less than the tenth part of one. -Troilus and Cressida. Act iii. Sc. 2.
Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that read more
Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that loured upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths, Our bruised arms hung up for monuments, Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front; And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass; I, that am rudely stamped, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them,— Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun. -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 1.
Death, as the Psalmist saith, is certain to all; all shall die. How a good yoke of bullocks at Stamford read more
Death, as the Psalmist saith, is certain to all; all shall die. How a good yoke of bullocks at Stamford fair? -King Henry IV. Part II. Act iii. Sc. 2.
I must have liberty Withal, as large a charter as the wind, To blow on whom I please. -As You read more
I must have liberty Withal, as large a charter as the wind, To blow on whom I please. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.
Is it a world to hide virtues in? -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 3.
Is it a world to hide virtues in? -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 3.
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.
How bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes! -As You Like It. Act v. read more
How bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes! -As You Like It. Act v. Sc. 2.
