These are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater, and delivered upon the mellowing read more

These are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater, and delivered upon the mellowing of occasion. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2.

I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove; I will roar you, an 't were any nightingale. -A read more

I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove; I will roar you, an 't were any nightingale. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 2.

And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by, He called them untaught knaves, unmannerly, To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse read more

And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by, He called them untaught knaves, unmannerly, To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse Betwixt the wind and his nobility. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 3.

Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were but little happy, if I could say how much. -Much Ado read more

Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were but little happy, if I could say how much. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act ii. Sc. 1.

"With this same key
Shakespeare unlocked his heart," once more!
Did Shakespeare? If so, the less Shakespeare read more

"With this same key
Shakespeare unlocked his heart," once more!
Did Shakespeare? If so, the less Shakespeare be!

For never anything can be amiss, When simpleness and duty tender it. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act v. Sc. 1.

For never anything can be amiss, When simpleness and duty tender it. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act v. Sc. 1.

We burn daylight. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 1.

We burn daylight. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 1.

The sense of death is most in apprehension; And the poor beetle, that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance finds read more

The sense of death is most in apprehension; And the poor beetle, that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Masters, it is proved already that you are little better than false knaves; and it will go near to be read more

Masters, it is proved already that you are little better than false knaves; and it will go near to be thought so shortly. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iv. Sc. 2.