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A man in all the world's new fashion planted, That hath a mint of phrases in his brain. -Love's Labour read more
A man in all the world's new fashion planted, That hath a mint of phrases in his brain. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.
Lord, Lord! methought, what pain it was to drown! What dreadful noise of waters in mine ears! What ugly sights read more
Lord, Lord! methought, what pain it was to drown! What dreadful noise of waters in mine ears! What ugly sights of death within mine eyes! Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks, Ten thousand men that fishes gnawed upon, Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl, Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels, All scattered in the bottom of the sea: Some lay in dead men's skulls; and in those holes Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept, As 't were in scorn of eyes, reflecting gems. -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 4.
He is of a very melancholy disposition. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act i. Sc. 1.
He is of a very melancholy disposition. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act i. Sc. 1.
These most brisk and giddy-paced times. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 4.
These most brisk and giddy-paced times. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 4.
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.
They are as sick that surfeit with too much, as they that starve with nothing. -The Merchant of Venice. Act read more
They are as sick that surfeit with too much, as they that starve with nothing. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 2.
I will scarce think you have swam in a gondola. -As You Like It. Act iv. Sc. 1.
I will scarce think you have swam in a gondola. -As You Like It. Act iv. Sc. 1.
My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 3.
My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 3.
