You May Also Like / View all maxioms
A forted residence 'gainst the tooth of time And razure of oblivion. -Measure for Measure. Act v. Sc. 1.
A forted residence 'gainst the tooth of time And razure of oblivion. -Measure for Measure. Act v. Sc. 1.
One Pinch, a hungry lean-faced villain, A mere anatomy. -The Comedy of Errors. Act v. Sc. 1.
One Pinch, a hungry lean-faced villain, A mere anatomy. -The Comedy of Errors. Act v. Sc. 1.
You take my house when you do take the prop That doth sustain my house; you take my life When read more
You take my house when you do take the prop That doth sustain my house; you take my life When you do take the means whereby I live. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.
The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for read more
The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus. Let no such man be trusted. -The Merchant of Venice. 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.
A royal train, believe me. -King Henry VIII. Act iv. Sc. 1.
A royal train, believe me. -King Henry VIII. Act iv. Sc. 1.
Old John of Gaunt, time-honoured Lancaster. -King Richard II. Act i. Sc. 1.
Old John of Gaunt, time-honoured Lancaster. -King Richard II. Act i. Sc. 1.
These are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater, and delivered upon the mellowing read more
These are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater, and delivered upon the mellowing of occasion. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2.
Under the shade of melancholy boughs, Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time; If ever you have look'd on read more
Under the shade of melancholy boughs, Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time; If ever you have look'd on better days, If ever been where bells have knoll'd to church, If ever sat at any good man's feast. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.
