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And oftentimes excusing of a fault Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse. -King John. Act iv. Sc. read more
And oftentimes excusing of a fault Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse. -King John. Act iv. Sc. 2.
I have peppered two of them: two I am sure I have paid, two rogues in buckram suits. I tell read more
I have peppered two of them: two I am sure I have paid, two rogues in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Hal, if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face; call me horse. Thou knowest my old ward: here I lay, and thus I bore my point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me— -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.
The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool. -As You Like read more
The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool. -As You Like It. Act v. Sc. 1.
If the rascal have not given me medicines to make me love him, I 'll be hanged. -King Henry IV. read more
If the rascal have not given me medicines to make me love him, I 'll be hanged. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 2.
Old father antic the law. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 2.
Old father antic the law. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 2.
Time travels in divers paces with divers persons. I 'll tell you who Time ambles withal, who Time trots withal, read more
Time travels in divers paces with divers persons. I 'll tell you who Time ambles withal, who Time trots withal, who Time gallops withal, and who he stands still withal. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.
My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 3.
My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 3.
The world was very guilty of such a ballad some three ages since; but I think now 't is not read more
The world was very guilty of such a ballad some three ages since; but I think now 't is not to be found. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 2.
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.
