I am all the daughters of my father's house, And all the brothers too. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 4.

I am all the daughters of my father's house, And all the brothers too. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 4.

And telling me, the sovereign'st thing on earth Was parmaceti for an inward bruise; And that it was great pity, read more

And telling me, the sovereign'st thing on earth Was parmaceti for an inward bruise; And that it was great pity, so it was, This villanous saltpetre should be digg'd Out of the bowels of the harmless earth, Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd So cowardly; and but for these vile guns, He would himself have been a soldier. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 3.

An unlesson'd girl, unschool'd, unpractised; Happy in this, she is not yet so old But she may learn. -The Merchant read more

An unlesson'd girl, unschool'd, unpractised; Happy in this, she is not yet so old But she may learn. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Our myriad-minded Shakespeare.

Our myriad-minded Shakespeare.

Unless experience be a jewel. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 2.

Unless experience be a jewel. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 2.

Ay, now am I in Arden: the more fool I. When I was at home I was in a better read more

Ay, now am I in Arden: the more fool I. When I was at home I was in a better place; but travellers must be content. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 4.

Two lovely berries moulded on one stem. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Two lovely berries moulded on one stem. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we ascribe to Heaven. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act i. read more

Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we ascribe to Heaven. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act i. Sc. 1.

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.