If I say that Shakespeare is the greatest of intellects, I have
said all concerning him. But there is read more

If I say that Shakespeare is the greatest of intellects, I have
said all concerning him. But there is more in Shakespeare's
intellect than we have yet seen. It is what I call an
unconscious intellect; there is more virtue in it that he himself
is aware of.

A man can die but once. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act iii. Sc. 2.

A man can die but once. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act iii. Sc. 2.

I thank God I am as honest as any man living that is an old man and no honester than read more

I thank God I am as honest as any man living that is an old man and no honester than I. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.

I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. read more

I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act iv. Sc. 1.

Are you good men and true? -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.

Are you good men and true? -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.

I have a good eye, uncle; I can see a church by day-light. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act ii. Sc. read more

I have a good eye, uncle; I can see a church by day-light. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act ii. Sc. 1.

I had rather be a kitten and cry mew Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers. -King Henry IV. Part read more

I had rather be a kitten and cry mew Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iii. Sc. 1.

So may he rest; his faults lie gently on him! -King Henry VIII. Act iv. Sc. 2.

So may he rest; his faults lie gently on him! -King Henry VIII. Act iv. Sc. 2.

Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender read more

Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him; The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root, And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured, Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory, But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride At length broke under me and now has left me, Weary and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must forever hide me. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye: I feel my heart new opened. O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours! There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have: And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.