Happy man be his dole! -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act iii. Sc. 4.

Happy man be his dole! -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act iii. Sc. 4.

My ventures are not in one bottom trusted, Nor to one place. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 1.

My ventures are not in one bottom trusted, Nor to one place. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 1.

Play out the play. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.

Play out the play. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.

All hell shall stir for this. -King Henry V. Act v. Sc. 1.

All hell shall stir for this. -King Henry V. Act v. Sc. 1.

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.

I 'll warrant him heart-whole. -As You Like It. Act iv. Sc. 1.

I 'll warrant him heart-whole. -As You Like It. Act iv. Sc. 1.

Mislike me not for my complexion, The shadow'd livery of the burnish'd sun. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. read more

Mislike me not for my complexion, The shadow'd livery of the burnish'd sun. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 1.

Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand read more

Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not: Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr! -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Few of the university pen plaies well, they smell too much of
that writer Ovid and that writer Metamorphosis read more

Few of the university pen plaies well, they smell too much of
that writer Ovid and that writer Metamorphosis and talk too much
of Prosperpina and Jupiter. Why, here's our fellow Shakespeare
puts them all down. Aye, and Ben Jonson too. O that B.J. is a
pestilent fellow, he brought up Horace giving poets a pill, but
our fellow, Shakespeare, hath given him a purge that made him
beray his credit.