For it so falls out That what we have we prize not to the worth Whiles we enjoy it, but read more

For it so falls out That what we have we prize not to the worth Whiles we enjoy it, but being lack'd and lost, Why, then we rack the value; then we find The virtue that possession would not show us Whiles it was ours. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iv. Sc. 1.

One Pinch, a hungry lean-faced villain, A mere anatomy. -The Comedy of Errors. Act v. Sc. 1.

One Pinch, a hungry lean-faced villain, A mere anatomy. -The Comedy of Errors. Act v. Sc. 1.

O Proserpina, For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'st fall From Dis's waggon! daffodils, That come before the swallow read more

O Proserpina, For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'st fall From Dis's waggon! daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold Bright Phœbus in his strength,—a malady Most incident to maids; bold oxlips and The crown imperial; lilies of all kinds, The flower-de-luce being one. -The Winter's Tale. Act iv. Sc. 4.

Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart or in the head? How begot, how nourished? Reply, reply. read more

Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart or in the head? How begot, how nourished? Reply, reply. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 2.

'T is beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on: Lady, you are read more

'T is beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on: Lady, you are the cruell'st she alive If you will lead these graces to the grave And leave the world no copy. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 5.

Thou art the Mars of malcontents. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. 3.

Thou art the Mars of malcontents. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. 3.

That unlettered small-knowing soul. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.

That unlettered small-knowing soul. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.

Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep. -King Henry VI. Part II. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep. -King Henry VI. Part II. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Let still the woman take An elder than herself: so wears she to him, So sways she level in her read more

Let still the woman take An elder than herself: so wears she to him, So sways she level in her husband's heart: For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn, Than women's are. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 4.