That 's a perilous shot out of an elder-gun. -King Henry V. Act iv. Sc. 1.

That 's a perilous shot out of an elder-gun. -King Henry V. Act iv. Sc. 1.

If I say that Shakespeare is the greatest of intellects, I have
said all concerning him. But there is read more

If I say that Shakespeare is the greatest of intellects, I have
said all concerning him. But there is more in Shakespeare's
intellect than we have yet seen. It is what I call an
unconscious intellect; there is more virtue in it that he himself
is aware of.

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.

Had I a dozen sons, each in my love alike and none less dear than thine and my good Marcius, read more

Had I a dozen sons, each in my love alike and none less dear than thine and my good Marcius, I had rather eleven die nobly for their country than one voluptuously surfeit out of action. -Coriolanus. Act i. Sc. 3.

That no Italian priest Shall tithe or toll in our dominions. -King John. Act iii. Sc. 1.

That no Italian priest Shall tithe or toll in our dominions. -King John. Act iii. Sc. 1.

"With this same key
Shakespeare unlocked his heart," once more!
Did Shakespeare? If so, the less Shakespeare read more

"With this same key
Shakespeare unlocked his heart," once more!
Did Shakespeare? If so, the less Shakespeare be!

Oh, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful In the contempt and anger of his lip! -Twelfth Night. Act iii. read more

Oh, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful In the contempt and anger of his lip! -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Food for powder, food for powder; they 'll fill a pit as well as better. -King Henry IV. Part I. read more

Food for powder, food for powder; they 'll fill a pit as well as better. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iv. Sc. 2.

There, Shakespeare, on whose forehead climb
The crowns o' the world. Oh, eyes sublime
With tears and read more

There, Shakespeare, on whose forehead climb
The crowns o' the world. Oh, eyes sublime
With tears and laughter for all time.