Thyself and thy belongings Are not thine own so proper as to waste Thyself upon thy virtues, they on thee. read more

Thyself and thy belongings Are not thine own so proper as to waste Thyself upon thy virtues, they on thee. Heaven doth with us as we with torches do, Not light them for themselves; for if our virtues Did not go forth of us, 't were all alike As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'd But to fine issues, nor Nature never lends The smallest scruple of her excellence But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines Herself the glory of a creditor, Both thanks and use. -Measure for Measure. Act i. Sc. 1.

An upright judge, a learned judge! -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.

An upright judge, a learned judge! -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.

The weariest and most loathed worldly life That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment Can lay on nature, is a paradise read more

The weariest and most loathed worldly life That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment Can lay on nature, is a paradise To what we fear of death. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.

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.

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, Or close the wall up with our English dead! In peace read more

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, Or close the wall up with our English dead! In peace there 's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility; But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger: Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood. -King Henry V. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Let me take you a button-hole lower. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 2.

Let me take you a button-hole lower. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 2.

O, how this spring of love resembleth The uncertain glory of an April day! -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act read more

O, how this spring of love resembleth The uncertain glory of an April day! -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act i. Sc. 3.

Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act iv. Sc. 5.

Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act iv. Sc. 5.

'T is beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on: Lady, you are read more

'T is beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on: Lady, you are the cruell'st she alive If you will lead these graces to the grave And leave the world no copy. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 5.