A man of sovereign parts he is esteem'd; Well fitted in arts, glorious in arms: Nothing becomes him ill that read more

A man of sovereign parts he is esteem'd; Well fitted in arts, glorious in arms: Nothing becomes him ill that he would well. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act ii. Sc. 1.

I have set my life upon a cast, And I will stand the hazard of the die: I think there read more

I have set my life upon a cast, And I will stand the hazard of the die: I think there be six Richmonds in the field. -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. 4.

Base is the slave that pays. -King Henry V. Act ii. Sc. 1.

Base is the slave that pays. -King Henry V. Act ii. Sc. 1.

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.

This Booke
When Brasse and Marble fade, shall make thee looke
Fresh to all Ages.

This Booke
When Brasse and Marble fade, shall make thee looke
Fresh to all Ages.

We burn daylight. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 1.

We burn daylight. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 1.

We are ready to try our fortunes To the last man. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act iv. Sc. 2.

We are ready to try our fortunes To the last man. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act iv. Sc. 2.

This was Shakespeare's form;
Who walked in every path of human life,
Felt every passion; and to read more

This was Shakespeare's form;
Who walked in every path of human life,
Felt every passion; and to all mankind
Doth now, will ever, that experience yield
Which his own genius only could acquire.

All things that are, Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd. How like a younker or a prodigal The scarfed read more

All things that are, Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd. How like a younker or a prodigal The scarfed bark puts from her native bay, Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind! How like the prodigal doth she return, With over-weather'd ribs and ragged sails, Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind! -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 6.