'T is not for gravity to play at cherry-pit with Satan. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.

'T is not for gravity to play at cherry-pit with Satan. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.

He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one; Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and persuading; Lofty and sour to them read more

He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one; Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and persuading; Lofty and sour to them that loved him not, But to those men that sought him sweet as summer. -King Henry VIII. Act iv. Sc. 2.

The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together. -All 's Well that Ends Well. read more

The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act iv. Sc. 3.

My friends were poor but honest. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act i. Sc. 3.

My friends were poor but honest. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act i. Sc. 3.

Accommodated; that is, when a man is, as they say, accommodated; or when a man is, being, whereby a' may read more

Accommodated; that is, when a man is, as they say, accommodated; or when a man is, being, whereby a' may be thought to be accommodated,—which is an excellent thing. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act iii. Sc. 2.

The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept. -Measure for Measure. Act ii. Sc. 2.

The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept. -Measure for Measure. Act ii. Sc. 2.

I remember, the players have often mentioned it as an honour to
Shakespeare, that in his writing (whatsoever he read more

I remember, the players have often mentioned it as an honour to
Shakespeare, that in his writing (whatsoever he penned) he never
plotted out a line. My answer hath been, would he had blotted a
thousand.

Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands: Courtsied when you have, and kiss'd The wild waves whist. -The read more

Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands: Courtsied when you have, and kiss'd The wild waves whist. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.

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.