O, what men dare do! what men may do! what men daily do, not knowing what they do! -Much Ado read more

O, what men dare do! what men may do! what men daily do, not knowing what they do! -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iv. Sc. 1.

Are you good men and true? -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.

Are you good men and true? -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.

Thou didst swear to me upon a parcel-gilt goblet, sitting in my Dolphin-chamber, at the round table, by a sea-coal read more

Thou didst swear to me upon a parcel-gilt goblet, sitting in my Dolphin-chamber, at the round table, by a sea-coal fire, upon Wednesday in Wheeson week. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act ii. Sc. 1.

And nothing can we call our own but death And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as read more

And nothing can we call our own but death And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as paste and cover to our bones. For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground And tell sad stories of the death of kings. -King Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 2.

All places that the eye of heaven visits Are to a wise man ports and happy havens. -King Richard II. read more

All places that the eye of heaven visits Are to a wise man ports and happy havens. -King Richard II. Act i. Sc. 3.

I thank God I am as honest as any man living that is an old man and no honester than read more

I thank God I am as honest as any man living that is an old man and no honester than I. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.

A kind Of excellent dumb discourse. -The Tempest. Act iii. Sc. 3.

A kind Of excellent dumb discourse. -The Tempest. Act iii. Sc. 3.

Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night! -King Henry VI. Part I. Act i. Sc. 1.

Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night! -King Henry VI. Part I. Act i. Sc. 1.

All the world 's a stage, And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their read more

All the world 's a stage, And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard; Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lined, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side; His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.