If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. read more

If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.

He doth nothing but talk of his horse. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 2.

He doth nothing but talk of his horse. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 2.

It was alway yet the trick of our English nation, if they have a good thing to make it too read more

It was alway yet the trick of our English nation, if they have a good thing to make it too common. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act i. Sc. 2.

'T is not in the bond. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.

'T is not in the bond. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.

"With this same key
Shakespeare unlocked his heart," once more!
Did Shakespeare? If so, the less Shakespeare read more

"With this same key
Shakespeare unlocked his heart," once more!
Did Shakespeare? If so, the less Shakespeare be!

A woman moved is like a fountain troubled,— Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty. -The Taming of the Shrew. Act read more

A woman moved is like a fountain troubled,— Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty. -The Taming of the Shrew. Act v. Sc. 2.

Lord, Lord, how this world is given to lying! I grant you I was down and out of breath; and read more

Lord, Lord, how this world is given to lying! I grant you I was down and out of breath; and so was he. But we rose both at an instant, and fought a long hour by Shrewsbury clock. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. Sc. 4.

Gave His body to that pleasant country's earth, And his pure soul unto his captain Christ, Under whose colours he read more

Gave His body to that pleasant country's earth, And his pure soul unto his captain Christ, Under whose colours he had fought so long. -King Richard II. Act iv. Sc. 1.

These are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater, and delivered upon the mellowing read more

These are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater, and delivered upon the mellowing of occasion. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2.