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Convey, the wise it call. Steal! foh! a fico for the phrase! -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. read more
Convey, the wise it call. Steal! foh! a fico for the phrase! -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. 3.
At Christmas I no more desire a rose Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled mirth; But like of each read more
At Christmas I no more desire a rose Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled mirth; But like of each thing that in season grows. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.
Take but degree away, untune that string, And, hark, what discord follows! each thing meets In mere oppugnancy. -Troilus and read more
Take but degree away, untune that string, And, hark, what discord follows! each thing meets In mere oppugnancy. -Troilus and Cressida. Act i. Sc. 3.
For ever and a day. -As You Like It. Act iv. Sc. 1.
For ever and a day. -As You Like It. Act iv. Sc. 1.
A forted residence 'gainst the tooth of time And razure of oblivion. -Measure for Measure. Act v. Sc. 1.
A forted residence 'gainst the tooth of time And razure of oblivion. -Measure for Measure. Act v. Sc. 1.
An honest exceeding poor man. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 2.
An honest exceeding poor man. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 2.
A Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a good boy. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.
A Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a good boy. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.
To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or read more
To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful and ridiculous excess. -King John. Act iv. Sc. 2.
Thyself and thy belongings Are not thine own so proper as to waste Thyself upon thy virtues, they on thee. read more
Thyself and thy belongings Are not thine own so proper as to waste Thyself upon thy virtues, they on thee. Heaven doth with us as we with torches do, Not light them for themselves; for if our virtues Did not go forth of us, 't were all alike As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'd But to fine issues, nor Nature never lends The smallest scruple of her excellence But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines Herself the glory of a creditor, Both thanks and use. -Measure for Measure. Act i. Sc. 1.
