In my school-days, when I had lost one shaft, I shot his fellow of the selfsame flight The selfsame way, read more

In my school-days, when I had lost one shaft, I shot his fellow of the selfsame flight The selfsame way, with more advised watch, To find the other forth; and by adventuring both, I oft found both. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 1.

Mellifluous Shakespeare, whose enchanting Quill
Commandeth Mirth or Passion, was but Will.

Mellifluous Shakespeare, whose enchanting Quill
Commandeth Mirth or Passion, was but Will.

'T is but the fate of place, and the rough brake That virtue must go through. -King Henry VIII. Act read more

'T is but the fate of place, and the rough brake That virtue must go through. -King Henry VIII. Act i. Sc. 2.

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here we will sit and let the sounds of music Creep in read more

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here we will sit and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold: There 's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins. Such harmony is in immortal souls; But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.

That unlettered small-knowing soul. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.

That unlettered small-knowing soul. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.

And if his name be George, I 'll call him Peter; For new-made honour doth forget men's names. -King John. read more

And if his name be George, I 'll call him Peter; For new-made honour doth forget men's names. -King John. Act i. Sc. 1.

And He that doth the ravens feed, Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, Be comfort to my age! -As You read more

And He that doth the ravens feed, Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, Be comfort to my age! -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 3.

O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse! how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my read more

O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse! how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down And steep my senses in forgetfulness? -King Henry IV. Part II. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Nature herself was proud of his designs,
And joyed to wear the dressing of his lines!
Which read more

Nature herself was proud of his designs,
And joyed to wear the dressing of his lines!
Which were so richly spun, and woven so fit,
As since, she will vouchsafe no other wit.