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Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun; it shines everywhere. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 1.
Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun; it shines everywhere. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 1.
Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts read more
Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form. -King John. Act iii. Sc. 4.
The Retort Courteous;… the Quip Modest;… the Reply Churlish;… the Reproof Valiant;… the Countercheck Quarrelsome;… the Lie with Circumstance;… the read more
The Retort Courteous;… the Quip Modest;… the Reply Churlish;… the Reproof Valiant;… the Countercheck Quarrelsome;… the Lie with Circumstance;… the Lie Direct. -As You Like It. Act v. Sc. 4.
Men Can counsel and speak comfort to that grief Which they themselves not feel. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. read more
Men Can counsel and speak comfort to that grief Which they themselves not feel. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. Sc. 1.
Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever,— One foot in sea and one on shore, To read more
Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever,— One foot in sea and one on shore, To one thing constant never. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act ii. Sc. 3.
An honest tale speeds best, being plainly told. -King Richard III. Act iv. Sc. 4.
An honest tale speeds best, being plainly told. -King Richard III. Act iv. Sc. 4.
Friendship is constant in all other things Save in the office and affairs of love: Therefore all hearts in love read more
Friendship is constant in all other things Save in the office and affairs of love: Therefore all hearts in love use their own tongues; Let every eye negotiate for itself And trust no agent. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act ii. Sc. 1.
'T is better to be lowly born, And range with humble livers in content, Than to be perked up in read more
'T is better to be lowly born, And range with humble livers in content, Than to be perked up in a glistering grief, And wear a golden sorrow. -King Henry VIII. Act ii. Sc. 3.
