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Turn him to any cause of policy, The Gordian knot of it he will unloose, Familiar as his garter: that read more
Turn him to any cause of policy, The Gordian knot of it he will unloose, Familiar as his garter: that when he speaks, The air, a chartered libertine, is still. -King Henry V. Act i. Sc. 1.
If there be no great love in the beginning, yet heaven may decrease it upon better acquaintance, when we are read more
If there be no great love in the beginning, yet heaven may decrease it upon better acquaintance, when we are married and have more occasion to know one another: I hope, upon familiarity will grow more contempt. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. 1.
Banish plump Jack, and banish all the world. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.
Banish plump Jack, and banish all the world. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.
Patch grief with proverbs. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. Sc. 1.
Patch grief with proverbs. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. Sc. 1.
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.
And give to dust that is a little gilt More laud than gilt o'er-dusted. -Troilus and Cressida. Act iii. Sc. read more
And give to dust that is a little gilt More laud than gilt o'er-dusted. -Troilus and Cressida. Act iii. Sc. 3.
'T is strange that death should sing. I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan, Who chants a doleful read more
'T is strange that death should sing. I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan, Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death, And from the organ-pipe of frailty sings His soul and body to their lasting rest. -King John. Act v. Sc. 7.
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.
