Small have continual plodders ever won Save base authority from others' books. These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights That give read more

Small have continual plodders ever won Save base authority from others' books. These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights That give a name to every fixed star Have no more profit of their shining nights Than those that walk and wot not what they are. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.

I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove; I will roar you, an 't were any nightingale. -A read more

I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove; I will roar you, an 't were any nightingale. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 2.

How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world. -The Merchant of read more

How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.

For never anything can be amiss, When simpleness and duty tender it. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act v. Sc. 1.

For never anything can be amiss, When simpleness and duty tender it. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act v. Sc. 1.

Order gave each thing view. -King Henry VIII. Act i. Sc. 1.

Order gave each thing view. -King Henry VIII. Act i. Sc. 1.

You may as well say, that 's a valiant flea that dare eat his breakfast on the lip of a read more

You may as well say, that 's a valiant flea that dare eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion. -King Henry V. Act iii. Sc. 7.

And my large kingdom for a little grave, A little little grave, an obscure grave. -King Richard II. Act iii. read more

And my large kingdom for a little grave, A little little grave, an obscure grave. -King Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 3.

Welcome ever smiles, And farewell goes out sighing. -Troilus and Cressida. Act iii. Sc. 3.

Welcome ever smiles, And farewell goes out sighing. -Troilus and Cressida. Act iii. Sc. 3.

They are as sick that surfeit with too much, as they that starve with nothing. -The Merchant of Venice. Act read more

They are as sick that surfeit with too much, as they that starve with nothing. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 2.