The ripest fruit first falls. -King Richard II. Act ii. Sc. 1.

The ripest fruit first falls. -King Richard II. Act ii. Sc. 1.

And the imperial votaress passed on, In maiden meditation, fancy-free. Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It read more

And the imperial votaress passed on, In maiden meditation, fancy-free. Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound, And maidens call it love-in-idleness. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act ii. Sc. 1.

Your heart's desires be with you! -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 2.

Your heart's desires be with you! -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 2.

For a good poet's made, as well as born,
And such wast thou! Look how the father's face
read more

For a good poet's made, as well as born,
And such wast thou! Look how the father's face
Lives in his issue; even so the race
Of Shakespeare's mind and manner brightly shine
In his well-turned and true-filed lines;
In each of which he seems to shake a lance,
As brandished at the eyes of ignorance.

And the vile squeaking of the wry-necked fife. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 5.

And the vile squeaking of the wry-necked fife. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 5.

I saw a smith stand with his hammer, thus, The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool, With open read more

I saw a smith stand with his hammer, thus, The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool, With open mouth swallowing a tailor's news. -King John. Act iv. Sc. 2.

His nose was as sharp as a pen, and a' babbled of green fields. -King Henry V. Act ii. Sc. read more

His nose was as sharp as a pen, and a' babbled of green fields. -King Henry V. Act ii. Sc. 3.

This figure that thou here seest put,
It was for gentle Shakespeare cut,
Wherein the graver had read more

This figure that thou here seest put,
It was for gentle Shakespeare cut,
Wherein the graver had a strife
With Nature, to outdo the life:
Oh, could he but have drawn his wit
As well in brass, as he has hit
His face, the print would then surpass
All that was ever writ in brass;
But since he cannot, reader, look
Not on his picture, but his book.

By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon, Or dive into the read more

By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon, Or dive into the bottom of the deep, Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, And pluck up drowned honour by the locks. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 3.