I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. He hates our sacred nation, and he rails, Even there read more

I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. He hates our sacred nation, and he rails, Even there where merchants most do congregate. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.

It is a melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, extracted from many objects, and indeed the sundry contemplation read more

It is a melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, extracted from many objects, and indeed the sundry contemplation of my travels, in which my often rumination wraps me in a most humorous sadness. -As You Like It. Act iv. Sc. 1.

'T is but the fate of place, and the rough brake That virtue must go through. -King Henry VIII. Act read more

'T is but the fate of place, and the rough brake That virtue must go through. -King Henry VIII. Act i. Sc. 2.

If we wish to know the force of human genius we should read
Shakespeare. If we wish to see read more

If we wish to know the force of human genius we should read
Shakespeare. If we wish to see the insignificance of human
learning we may study his commentators.

There live not three good men unhanged in England; and one of them is fat and grows old. -King Henry read more

There live not three good men unhanged in England; and one of them is fat and grows old. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.

Comes at the last, and with a little pin Bores through his castle wall—and farewell king! -King Richard II. Act read more

Comes at the last, and with a little pin Bores through his castle wall—and farewell king! -King Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 2.

I think we do know the sweet Roman hand. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.

I think we do know the sweet Roman hand. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.

By the apostle Paul, shadows to-night Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard Than can the substance of read more

By the apostle Paul, shadows to-night Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers. -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. 3.

When daisies pied and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver-white, And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with read more

When daisies pied and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver-white, And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 2.