In the twinkling of an eye. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 2.

In the twinkling of an eye. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 2.

He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act read more

He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 1.

My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 3.

My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 3.

No profit grows where is no pleasure ta'en; In brief, sir, study what you most affect. -The Taming of the read more

No profit grows where is no pleasure ta'en; In brief, sir, study what you most affect. -The Taming of the Shrew. Act i. Sc. 1.

This is the third time; I hope good luck lies in odd numbers…. There is divinity in odd numbers, either read more

This is the third time; I hope good luck lies in odd numbers…. There is divinity in odd numbers, either in nativity, chance, or death. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act v. Sc. 1.

O, that he were here to write me down an ass! -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iv. Sc. 2.

O, that he were here to write me down an ass! -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iv. Sc. 2.

And sheathed their swords for lack of argument. -King Henry V. Act iii. Sc. 1.

And sheathed their swords for lack of argument. -King Henry V. Act iii. Sc. 1.

I am sure care 's an enemy to life. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 3.

I am sure care 's an enemy to life. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 3.

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.