The setting sun, and music at the close, As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last, Writ in remembrance read more

The setting sun, and music at the close, As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last, Writ in remembrance more than things long past. -King Richard II. Act ii. Sc. 1.

And thereby hangs a tale. -The Taming of the Shrew. Act iv. Sc. 1.

And thereby hangs a tale. -The Taming of the Shrew. Act iv. Sc. 1.

And thus I clothe my naked villany With old odd ends stolen out of holy writ, And seem a saint read more

And thus I clothe my naked villany With old odd ends stolen out of holy writ, And seem a saint when most I play the devil. -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 3.

Not all the water in the rough rude sea Can wash the balm off from an anointed king. -King Richard read more

Not all the water in the rough rude sea Can wash the balm off from an anointed king. -King Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Under the shade of melancholy boughs, Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time; If ever you have look'd on read more

Under the shade of melancholy boughs, Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time; If ever you have look'd on better days, If ever been where bells have knoll'd to church, If ever sat at any good man's feast. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

For in my youth I never did apply Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood. -As You Like It. Act read more

For in my youth I never did apply Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood. -As You Like It. Act ii. 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.

But man, proud man, Drest in a little brief authority, Most ignorant of what he 's most assured, His glassy read more

But man, proud man, Drest in a little brief authority, Most ignorant of what he 's most assured, His glassy essence, like an angry ape, Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven As make the angels weep. -Measure for Measure. Act ii. Sc. 2.

Masters, it is proved already that you are little better than false knaves; and it will go near to be read more

Masters, it is proved already that you are little better than false knaves; and it will go near to be thought so shortly. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iv. Sc. 2.