Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, Or close the wall up with our English dead! In peace read more

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, Or close the wall up with our English dead! In peace there 's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility; But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger: Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood. -King Henry V. Act iii. Sc. 1.

This bold bad man. -King Henry VIII. Act ii. Sc. 2.

This bold bad man. -King Henry VIII. Act ii. Sc. 2.

That would hang us, every mother's son. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 2.

That would hang us, every mother's son. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 2.

Then let thy love be younger than thyself, Or thy affection cannot hold the bent. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. read more

Then let thy love be younger than thyself, Or thy affection cannot hold the bent. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 4.

There 's a skirmish of wit between them. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act i. Sc. 1.

There 's a skirmish of wit between them. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act i. Sc. 1.

This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-paradise, read more

This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-paradise, This fortress built by Nature for herself Against infection and the hand of war, This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea, Which serves it in the office of a wall Or as a moat defensive to a house, Against the envy of less happier lands,— This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England. -King Richard II. Act ii. Sc. 1.

My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, That fools should be so deep-contemplative; And I did laugh sans intermission An read more

My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, That fools should be so deep-contemplative; And I did laugh sans intermission An hour by his dial. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

'T is all men's office to speak patience To those that wring under the load of sorrow, But no man's read more

'T is all men's office to speak patience To those that wring under the load of sorrow, But no man's virtue nor sufficiency To be so moral when he shall endure The like himself. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. Sc. 1.

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.