Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts read more

Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form. -King John. Act iii. Sc. 4.

I have peppered two of them: two I am sure I have paid, two rogues in buckram suits. I tell read more

I have peppered two of them: two I am sure I have paid, two rogues in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Hal, if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face; call me horse. Thou knowest my old ward: here I lay, and thus I bore my point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me— -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.

The sons of Edward sleep in Abraham's bosom. -King Richard III. Act iv. Sc. 3.

The sons of Edward sleep in Abraham's bosom. -King Richard III. Act iv. Sc. 3.

She is mine own, And I as rich in having such a jewel As twenty seas, if all their sand read more

She is mine own, And I as rich in having such a jewel As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl, The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold. -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act ii. Sc. 4.

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.

'T is better to be lowly born, And range with humble livers in content, Than to be perked up in read more

'T is better to be lowly born, And range with humble livers in content, Than to be perked up in a glistering grief, And wear a golden sorrow. -King Henry VIII. Act ii. Sc. 3.

Many a time and oft In the Rialto you have rated me. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.

Many a time and oft In the Rialto you have rated me. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.

For a good poet's made, as well as born,
And such wast thou! Look how the father's face
read more

For a good poet's made, as well as born,
And such wast thou! Look how the father's face
Lives in his issue; even so the race
Of Shakespeare's mind and manner brightly shine
In his well-turned and true-filed lines;
In each of which he seems to shake a lance,
As brandished at the eyes of ignorance.

Why, then the world 's mine oyster, Which I with sword will open. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. read more

Why, then the world 's mine oyster, Which I with sword will open. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 2.