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'T is my vocation, Hal; 't is no sin for a man to labour in his vocation. -King Henry IV. read more

'T is my vocation, Hal; 't is no sin for a man to labour in his vocation. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 2.

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You two are book-men. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2.

You two are book-men. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2.

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  2  /  2  

Halloo your name to the reverberate hills, And make the babbling gossip of the air Cry out. -Twelfth Night. Act read more

Halloo your name to the reverberate hills, And make the babbling gossip of the air Cry out. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 5.

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  8  /  9  

The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for read more

The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus. Let no such man be trusted. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.

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Speak low if you speak love. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act ii. Sc. 1.

Speak low if you speak love. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act ii. Sc. 1.

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All the world 's a stage, And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their read more

All the world 's a stage, And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard; Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lined, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side; His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

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For aught that I could ever read, Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never read more

For aught that I could ever read, Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 1.

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Blow, blow, thou winter wind! Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. read more

Blow, blow, thou winter wind! Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

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And many strokes, though with a little axe, Hew down and fell the hardest-timbered oak. -King Henry VI. Part III. read more

And many strokes, though with a little axe, Hew down and fell the hardest-timbered oak. -King Henry VI. Part III. Act ii. Sc. 1.

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