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A peace above all earthly dignities, A still and quiet conscience. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.
A peace above all earthly dignities, A still and quiet conscience. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.
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 my large kingdom for a little grave, A little little grave, an obscure grave. -King Richard II. Act iii. read more
And my large kingdom for a little grave, A little little grave, an obscure grave. -King Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 3.
Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart or in the head? How begot, how nourished? Reply, reply. read more
Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart or in the head? How begot, how nourished? Reply, reply. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 2.
The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet. -King Richard II. Act i. Sc. 3.
The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet. -King Richard II. Act i. Sc. 3.
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.
Every subject's duty is the king's; but every subject's soul is his own. -King Henry V. Act iv. Sc. 1.
Every subject's duty is the king's; but every subject's soul is his own. -King Henry V. Act iv. Sc. 1.
