You May Also Like / View all maxioms
The gentleman is not in your books. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act i. Sc. 1.
The gentleman is not in your books. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act i. Sc. 1.
And he that stands upon a slippery place Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up. -King John. read more
And he that stands upon a slippery place Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up. -King John. Act iii. Sc. 4.
The villany you teach me I will execute, and it shall go hard, but I will better the instruction. -The read more
The villany you teach me I will execute, and it shall go hard, but I will better the instruction. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 1.
The very staff of my age, my very prop. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 2.
The very staff of my age, my very prop. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 2.
We that are in the vaward of our youth. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act i. Sc. 2.
We that are in the vaward of our youth. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act i. Sc. 2.
And sheathed their swords for lack of argument. -King Henry V. Act iii. Sc. 1.
And sheathed their swords for lack of argument. -King Henry V. Act iii. Sc. 1.
But if it be a sin to covet honour, I am the most offending soul alive. -King Henry V. Act read more
But if it be a sin to covet honour, I am the most offending soul alive. -King Henry V. Act iv. Sc. 3.
How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here we will sit and let the sounds of music Creep in read more
How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here we will sit and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold: There 's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins. Such harmony is in immortal souls; But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.
In the posteriors of this day, which the rude multitude call the afternoon. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. read more
In the posteriors of this day, which the rude multitude call the afternoon. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 1.
