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I 'll warrant him heart-whole. -As You Like It. Act iv. Sc. 1.
I 'll warrant him heart-whole. -As You Like It. Act iv. Sc. 1.
O, monstrous! but one half-pennyworth of bread to this intolerable deal of sack! -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. read more
O, monstrous! but one half-pennyworth of bread to this intolerable deal of sack! -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.
A fellow of no mark nor likelihood. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iii. Sc. 2.
A fellow of no mark nor likelihood. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iii. Sc. 2.
For when did friendship take A breed for barren metal of his friend? -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. read more
For when did friendship take A breed for barren metal of his friend? -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.
Our myriad-minded Shakespeare.
Our myriad-minded Shakespeare.
Chaste as the icicle That 's curdied by the frost from purest snow And hangs on Dian's temple. -Coriolanus. Act read more
Chaste as the icicle That 's curdied by the frost from purest snow And hangs on Dian's temple. -Coriolanus. Act v. Sc. 3.
This figure that thou here seest put,
It was for gentle Shakespeare cut,
Wherein the graver had read more
This figure that thou here seest put,
It was for gentle Shakespeare cut,
Wherein the graver had a strife
With Nature, to outdo the life:
Oh, could he but have drawn his wit
As well in brass, as he has hit
His face, the print would then surpass
All that was ever writ in brass;
But since he cannot, reader, look
Not on his picture, but his book.
God made him, and therefore let him pass for a man. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 2.
God made him, and therefore let him pass for a man. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 2.
The idea of her life shall sweetly creep Into his study of imagination, And every lovely organ of her life, read more
The idea of her life shall sweetly creep Into his study of imagination, And every lovely organ of her life, Shall come apparell'd in more precious habit, More moving-delicate and full of life Into the eye and prospect of his soul. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iv. Sc. 1.
