There 's small choice in rotten apples. -The Taming of the Shrew. Act i. Sc. 1.

There 's small choice in rotten apples. -The Taming of the Shrew. Act i. Sc. 1.

The Retort Courteous;… the Quip Modest;… the Reply Churlish;… the Reproof Valiant;… the Countercheck Quarrelsome;… the Lie with Circumstance;… the read more

The Retort Courteous;… the Quip Modest;… the Reply Churlish;… the Reproof Valiant;… the Countercheck Quarrelsome;… the Lie with Circumstance;… the Lie Direct. -As You Like It. Act v. Sc. 4.

Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes: Nothing read more

Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes: Nothing of him that doth fade But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.

Tetchy and wayward. -King Richard III. Act iv. Sc. 4.

Tetchy and wayward. -King Richard III. Act iv. Sc. 4.

For courage mounteth with occasion. -King John. Act ii. Sc. 1.

For courage mounteth with occasion. -King John. Act ii. Sc. 1.

He wears his faith but as the fashion of his hat. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act i. Sc. 1.

He wears his faith but as the fashion of his hat. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act i. Sc. 1.

A second Daniel, a Daniel, Jew! Now, infidel, I have you on the hip. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. read more

A second Daniel, a Daniel, Jew! Now, infidel, I have you on the hip. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.

Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands: Courtsied when you have, and kiss'd The wild waves whist. -The read more

Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands: Courtsied when you have, and kiss'd The wild waves whist. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.

And the imperial votaress passed on, In maiden meditation, fancy-free. Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It read more

And the imperial votaress passed on, In maiden meditation, fancy-free. Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound, And maidens call it love-in-idleness. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act ii. Sc. 1.