Thus we play the fools with the time, and the spirits of the wise sit in the clouds and mock read more

Thus we play the fools with the time, and the spirits of the wise sit in the clouds and mock us. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act ii. Sc. 2.

He hath a tear for pity, and a hand Open as day for melting charity. -King Henry IV. Part II. read more

He hath a tear for pity, and a hand Open as day for melting charity. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act iv. Sc. 4.

For the rain it raineth every day. -Twelfth Night. Act v. Sc. 1.

For the rain it raineth every day. -Twelfth Night. Act v. Sc. 1.

It goes much against my stomach. Hast any philosophy in thee, shepherd? -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.

It goes much against my stomach. Hast any philosophy in thee, shepherd? -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Halloo your name to the reverberate hills, And make the babbling gossip of the air Cry out. -Twelfth Night. Act read more

Halloo your name to the reverberate hills, And make the babbling gossip of the air Cry out. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 5.

Men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them,—but not for love. -As You Like It. Act read more

Men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them,—but not for love. -As You Like It. Act iv. Sc. 1.

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 thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.

I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.

Men Can counsel and speak comfort to that grief Which they themselves not feel. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. read more

Men Can counsel and speak comfort to that grief Which they themselves not feel. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. Sc. 1.