Ay, but to die, and go we know not where; To lie in cold obstruction and to rot; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice; To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.
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I will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways. -As You Like It. Act v. Sc. 1.
I will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways. -As You Like It. Act v. Sc. 1.
I have touched the highest point of all my greatness; And from that full meridian of my glory I haste read more
I have touched the highest point of all my greatness; And from that full meridian of my glory I haste now to my setting: I shall fall Like a bright exhalation in the evening, And no man see me more. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.
Like one Who having into truth, by telling of it, Made such a sinner of his memory, To credit his read more
Like one Who having into truth, by telling of it, Made such a sinner of his memory, To credit his own lie. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.
And like a dew-drop from the lion's mane, Be shook to air. -Troilus and Cressida. Act iii. Sc. 3.
And like a dew-drop from the lion's mane, Be shook to air. -Troilus and Cressida. Act iii. Sc. 3.
He that dies pays all debts. -The Tempest. Act iii. Sc. 2.
He that dies pays all debts. -The Tempest. Act iii. Sc. 2.
Palsied eld. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.
Palsied eld. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.
How many things by season season'd are To their right praise and true perfection! -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. read more
How many things by season season'd are To their right praise and true perfection! -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.
Well said: that was laid on with a trowel. -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 2.
Well said: that was laid on with a trowel. -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 2.
You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog, And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.
You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog, And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.
