Affliction may one day smile again; and till then, sit thee down, sorrow! -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. read more

Affliction may one day smile again; and till then, sit thee down, sorrow! -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.

An ill-favoured thing, sir, but mine own. -As You Like It. Act v. Sc. 4.

An ill-favoured thing, sir, but mine own. -As You Like It. Act v. Sc. 4.

For there was never yet philosopher That could endure the toothache patiently. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. Sc. 1.

For there was never yet philosopher That could endure the toothache patiently. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. Sc. 1.

Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 1.

Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 1.

If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. read more

If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.

Speak me fair in death. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.

Speak me fair in death. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.

Renowned Spenser, lie a thought more nigh
To learned Chaucer, and rare Beaumont lie
A little nearer read more

Renowned Spenser, lie a thought more nigh
To learned Chaucer, and rare Beaumont lie
A little nearer Spenser, to make room
For Shakespeare in your threefold, fourfold tomb.

All the world 's a stage, And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their read more

All the world 's a stage, And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard; Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lined, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side; His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

And nothing can we call our own but death And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as read more

And nothing can we call our own but death And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as paste and cover to our bones. For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground And tell sad stories of the death of kings. -King Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 2.