I remember, the players have often mentioned it as an honour to
Shakespeare, that in his writing (whatsoever he read more

I remember, the players have often mentioned it as an honour to
Shakespeare, that in his writing (whatsoever he penned) he never
plotted out a line. My answer hath been, would he had blotted a
thousand.

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.

Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 5.

Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 5.

Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour, Found thee read more

Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour, Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in; A sure and safe one, though thy master missed it. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.

The fringed curtains of thine eye advance. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.

The fringed curtains of thine eye advance. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.

For a good poet's made, as well as born,
And such wast thou! Look how the father's face
read more

For a good poet's made, as well as born,
And such wast thou! Look how the father's face
Lives in his issue; even so the race
Of Shakespeare's mind and manner brightly shine
In his well-turned and true-filed lines;
In each of which he seems to shake a lance,
As brandished at the eyes of ignorance.

Your If is the only peacemaker; much virtue in If. -As You Like It. Act v. Sc. 4.

Your If is the only peacemaker; much virtue in If. -As You Like It. Act v. Sc. 4.

By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon, Or dive into the read more

By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon, Or dive into the bottom of the deep, Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, And pluck up drowned honour by the locks. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 3.

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.