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Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age read more
Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.
You two are book-men. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2.
You two are book-men. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2.
The smallest worm will turn, being trodden on. -King Henry VI. Part III. Act ii. Sc. 2.
The smallest worm will turn, being trodden on. -King Henry VI. Part III. Act ii. Sc. 2.
This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid; Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms, The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans, Liege read more
This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid; Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms, The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans, Liege of all loiterers and malcontents. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iii. Sc. 1.
And sheathed their swords for lack of argument. -King Henry V. Act iii. Sc. 1.
And sheathed their swords for lack of argument. -King Henry V. Act iii. Sc. 1.
He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act read more
He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 1.
Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way Of starved people. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.
Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way Of starved people. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.
Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that read more
Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that loured upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths, Our bruised arms hung up for monuments, Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front; And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass; I, that am rudely stamped, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them,— Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun. -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 1.
