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Modest doubt is call'd The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches To the bottom of the worst. -Troilus read more
Modest doubt is call'd The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches To the bottom of the worst. -Troilus and Cressida. Act ii. Sc. 2.
How use doth breed a habit in a man! -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act v. Sc. 4.
How use doth breed a habit in a man! -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act v. Sc. 4.
He is come to open The purple testament of bleeding war. -King Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 3.
He is come to open The purple testament of bleeding war. -King Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 3.
I could have better spared a better man. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. Sc. 4.
I could have better spared a better man. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. Sc. 4.
Every why hath a wherefore. -The Comedy of Errors. Act ii. Sc. 2.
Every why hath a wherefore. -The Comedy of Errors. Act ii. Sc. 2.
A merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal. -Love's Labour 's Lost. read more
A merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act ii. Sc. 1.
Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that read more
Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that loured upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths, Our bruised arms hung up for monuments, Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front; And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass; I, that am rudely stamped, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them,— Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun. -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 1.
It adds a precious seeing to the eye. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 3.
It adds a precious seeing to the eye. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 3.
