Journeys end in lovers meeting, Every wise man's son doth know. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 3.

Journeys end in lovers meeting, Every wise man's son doth know. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 3.

To unpathed waters, undreamed shores. -The Winter's Tale. Act iv. Sc. 4.

To unpathed waters, undreamed shores. -The Winter's Tale. Act iv. Sc. 4.

Delays have dangerous ends. -King Henry VI. Part I. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Delays have dangerous ends. -King Henry VI. Part I. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind. -A Midsummer Night's read more

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 1.

I have an exposition of sleep come upon me. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act iv. Sc. 1.

I have an exposition of sleep come upon me. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act iv. Sc. 1.

And rail'd on Lady Fortune in good terms, In good set terms. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

And rail'd on Lady Fortune in good terms, In good set terms. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

When daisies pied and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver-white, And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with read more

When daisies pied and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver-white, And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 2.

I would the gods had made thee poetical. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.

I would the gods had made thee poetical. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that read more

Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that loured upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths, Our bruised arms hung up for monuments, Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front; And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass; I, that am rudely stamped, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them,— Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun. -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 1.