'T is strange that death should sing. I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan, Who chants a doleful read more

'T is strange that death should sing. I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan, Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death, And from the organ-pipe of frailty sings His soul and body to their lasting rest. -King John. Act v. Sc. 7.

A deal of skimble-skamble stuff. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iii. Sc. 1.

A deal of skimble-skamble stuff. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iii. Sc. 1.

I charge thee, fling away ambition: By that sin fell the angels. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.

I charge thee, fling away ambition: By that sin fell the angels. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.

And nothing can we call our own but death And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as read more

And nothing can we call our own but death And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as paste and cover to our bones. For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground And tell sad stories of the death of kings. -King Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 2.

The fair, the chaste, and unexpressive she. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.

The fair, the chaste, and unexpressive she. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 1.

Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 1.

I think we do know the sweet Roman hand. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.

I think we do know the sweet Roman hand. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.

That in the captain 's but a choleric word Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy. -Measure for Measure. Act read more

That in the captain 's but a choleric word Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy. -Measure for Measure. Act ii. Sc. 2.

Like one Who having into truth, by telling of it, Made such a sinner of his memory, To credit his read more

Like one Who having into truth, by telling of it, Made such a sinner of his memory, To credit his own lie. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.