I have peppered two of them: two I am sure I have paid, two rogues in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Hal, if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face; call me horse. Thou knowest my old ward: here I lay, and thus I bore my point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me— -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.
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I 'll tickle your catastrophe. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act ii. Sc. 1.
I 'll tickle your catastrophe. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act ii. Sc. 1.
The cunning livery of hell. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.
The cunning livery of hell. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.
A man I am, cross'd with adversity. -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act iv. Sc. 1.
A man I am, cross'd with adversity. -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act iv. Sc. 1.
The idea of her life shall sweetly creep Into his study of imagination, And every lovely organ of her life, read more
The idea of her life shall sweetly creep Into his study of imagination, And every lovely organ of her life, Shall come apparell'd in more precious habit, More moving-delicate and full of life Into the eye and prospect of his soul. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iv. Sc. 1.
This will last out a night in Russia, When nights are longest there. -Measure for Measure. Act ii. Sc. 1.
This will last out a night in Russia, When nights are longest there. -Measure for Measure. Act ii. Sc. 1.
The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for read more
The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus. Let no such man be trusted. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.
Devise, wit; write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 2.
Devise, wit; write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 2.
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.
Light seeking light doth light of light beguile. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.
Light seeking light doth light of light beguile. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.
