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The spinsters and the knitters in the sun And the free maids that weave their thread with bones Do use read more
The spinsters and the knitters in the sun And the free maids that weave their thread with bones Do use to chant it: it is silly sooth, And dallies with the innocence of love, Like the old age. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 4.
A snapper-up of unconsidered trifles. -The Winter's Tale. Act iv. Sc. 3.
A snapper-up of unconsidered trifles. -The Winter's Tale. Act iv. Sc. 3.
Time travels in divers paces with divers persons. I 'll tell you who Time ambles withal, who Time trots withal, read more
Time travels in divers paces with divers persons. I 'll tell you who Time ambles withal, who Time trots withal, who Time gallops withal, and who he stands still withal. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.
And like a dew-drop from the lion's mane, Be shook to air. -Troilus and Cressida. Act iii. Sc. 3.
And like a dew-drop from the lion's mane, Be shook to air. -Troilus and Cressida. Act iii. Sc. 3.
Service is no heritage. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act i. Sc. 3.
Service is no heritage. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act i. Sc. 3.
The end crowns all, And that old common arbitrator, Time, Will one day end it. -Troilus and Cressida. Act iv. read more
The end crowns all, And that old common arbitrator, Time, Will one day end it. -Troilus and Cressida. Act iv. Sc. 5.
Our compell'd sins Stand more for number than for accompt. -Measure for Measure. Act ii. Sc. 4.
Our compell'd sins Stand more for number than for accompt. -Measure for Measure. Act ii. Sc. 4.
Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and Are melted into air, read more
Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and Are melted into air, into thin air: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on; and our little life Is rounded with a sleep. -The Tempest. Act iv. Sc. 1.
