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The most senseless and fit man. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.
The most senseless and fit man. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.
As merry as the day is long. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act ii. Sc. 1.
As merry as the day is long. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act ii. Sc. 1.
It was alway yet the trick of our English nation, if they have a good thing to make it too read more
It was alway yet the trick of our English nation, if they have a good thing to make it too common. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act i. Sc. 2.
It is meat and drink to me. -As You Like It. Act v. Sc. 1.
It is meat and drink to me. -As You Like It. Act v. Sc. 1.
No profit grows where is no pleasure ta'en; In brief, sir, study what you most affect. -The Taming of the read more
No profit grows where is no pleasure ta'en; In brief, sir, study what you most affect. -The Taming of the Shrew. Act i. Sc. 1.
And like a dew-drop from the lion's mane, Be shook to air. -Troilus and Cressida. Act iii. Sc. 3.
And like a dew-drop from the lion's mane, Be shook to air. -Troilus and Cressida. Act iii. Sc. 3.
Close up his eyes and draw the curtain close; And let us all to meditation. -King Henry VI. Part II. read more
Close up his eyes and draw the curtain close; And let us all to meditation. -King Henry VI. Part II. Act iii. Sc. 3.
Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender read more
Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him; The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root, And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured, Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory, But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride At length broke under me and now has left me, Weary and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must forever hide me. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye: I feel my heart new opened. O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours! There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have: And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.
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.