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Small have continual plodders ever won Save base authority from others' books. These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights That give read more
Small have continual plodders ever won Save base authority from others' books. These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights That give a name to every fixed star Have no more profit of their shining nights Than those that walk and wot not what they are. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.
Past and to come seems best; things present worst. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act i. Sc. 3.
Past and to come seems best; things present worst. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act i. Sc. 3.
The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.
The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.
Thyself and thy belongings Are not thine own so proper as to waste Thyself upon thy virtues, they on thee. read more
Thyself and thy belongings Are not thine own so proper as to waste Thyself upon thy virtues, they on thee. Heaven doth with us as we with torches do, Not light them for themselves; for if our virtues Did not go forth of us, 't were all alike As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'd But to fine issues, nor Nature never lends The smallest scruple of her excellence But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines Herself the glory of a creditor, Both thanks and use. -Measure for Measure. Act i. Sc. 1.
A high hope for a low heaven. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.
A high hope for a low heaven. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.
Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin As self-neglecting. -King Henry V. Act ii. Sc. 4.
Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin As self-neglecting. -King Henry V. Act ii. Sc. 4.
The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act v. Sc. 3.
The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act v. Sc. 3.
Let there be gall enough in thy ink; though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. read more
Let there be gall enough in thy ink; though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 2.
Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. read more
Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 1.
