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Was ever woman in this humour wooed? Was ever woman in this humour won? -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. read more
Was ever woman in this humour wooed? Was ever woman in this humour won? -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 2.
O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible, As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a steeple. -The Two read more
O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible, As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a steeple. -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act ii. Sc. 1.
For there was never yet philosopher That could endure the toothache patiently. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. Sc. 1.
For there was never yet philosopher That could endure the toothache patiently. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. Sc. 1.
The spinsters and the knitters in the sun And the free maids that weave their thread with bones Do use read more
The spinsters and the knitters in the sun And the free maids that weave their thread with bones Do use to chant it: it is silly sooth, And dallies with the innocence of love, Like the old age. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 4.
A man of my kidney. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act iii. Sc. 5.
A man of my kidney. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act iii. Sc. 5.
And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe, And then from hour to hour we rot and rot; read more
And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe, And then from hour to hour we rot and rot; And thereby hangs a tale. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.
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.
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.
