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Full bravely hast thou fleshed Thy maiden sword. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. Sc. 4.
Full bravely hast thou fleshed Thy maiden sword. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. Sc. 4.
Ships are but boards, sailors but men: there be land-rats and water-rats, water-thieves and land-thieves. -The Merchant of Venice. Act read more
Ships are but boards, sailors but men: there be land-rats and water-rats, water-thieves and land-thieves. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.
I am not in the roll of common men. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iii. Sc. 1.
I am not in the roll of common men. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iii. Sc. 1.
If he be not fellow with the best king, thou shalt find the best king of good fellows. -King Henry read more
If he be not fellow with the best king, thou shalt find the best king of good fellows. -King Henry V. Act v. Sc. 2.
The seeming truth which cunning times put on To entrap the wisest. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 2.
The seeming truth which cunning times put on To entrap the wisest. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 2.
Poor deer, quoth he, thou makest a testament As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more To that which had read more
Poor deer, quoth he, thou makest a testament As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more To that which had too much. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 1.
That reverend vice, that grey iniquity, that father ruffian, that vanity in years. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. read more
That reverend vice, that grey iniquity, that father ruffian, that vanity in years. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.
Thy ignominy sleep with thee in the grave, But not remember'd in thy epitaph! -King Henry IV. Part I. Act read more
Thy ignominy sleep with thee in the grave, But not remember'd in thy epitaph! -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. Sc. 4.
If music be the food of love, play on; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, read more
If music be the food of love, play on; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again! it had a dying fall: O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour! -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 1.
