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.

The brain may devise laws for the blood, but a hot temper leaps o'er a cold decree. -The Merchant of read more

The brain may devise laws for the blood, but a hot temper leaps o'er a cold decree. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 2.

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.

To be a well-favoured man is the gift of fortune; but to write and read comes by nature. -Much Ado read more

To be a well-favoured man is the gift of fortune; but to write and read comes by nature. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.

All places that the eye of heaven visits Are to a wise man ports and happy havens. -King Richard II. read more

All places that the eye of heaven visits Are to a wise man ports and happy havens. -King Richard II. Act i. Sc. 3.

From women's eyes this doctrine I derive: They sparkle still the right Promethean fire; They are the books, the arts, read more

From women's eyes this doctrine I derive: They sparkle still the right Promethean fire; They are the books, the arts, the academes, That show, contain, and nourish all the world. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 3.

A proper man, as one shall see in a summer's day. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 2.

A proper man, as one shall see in a summer's day. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 2.

There, Shakespeare, on whose forehead climb
The crowns o' the world. Oh, eyes sublime
With tears and read more

There, Shakespeare, on whose forehead climb
The crowns o' the world. Oh, eyes sublime
With tears and laughter for all time.

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, Or close the wall up with our English dead! In peace read more

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, Or close the wall up with our English dead! In peace there 's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility; But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger: Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood. -King Henry V. Act iii. Sc. 1.