'T is not for gravity to play at cherry-pit with Satan. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.

'T is not for gravity to play at cherry-pit with Satan. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.

A goodly apple rotten at the heart: O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath! -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. read more

A goodly apple rotten at the heart: O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath! -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.

I 'll warrant him heart-whole. -As You Like It. Act iv. Sc. 1.

I 'll warrant him heart-whole. -As You Like It. Act iv. Sc. 1.

A very ancient and fish-like smell. -The Tempest. Act ii. Sc. 2.

A very ancient and fish-like smell. -The Tempest. Act ii. Sc. 2.

Mocking the air with colours idly spread. -King John. Act v. Sc. 1.

Mocking the air with colours idly spread. -King John. Act v. Sc. 1.

I thought upon one pair of English legs Did march three Frenchmen. -King Henry V. Act iii. Sc. 6.

I thought upon one pair of English legs Did march three Frenchmen. -King Henry V. Act iii. Sc. 6.

A good old man, sir; he will be talking: as they say, When the age is in the wit is read more

A good old man, sir; he will be talking: as they say, When the age is in the wit is out. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 5.

Between two hawks, which flies the higher pitch; Between two dogs, which hath the deeper mouth; Between two blades, which read more

Between two hawks, which flies the higher pitch; Between two dogs, which hath the deeper mouth; Between two blades, which bears the better temper; Between two horses, which doth bear him best; Between two girls, which hath the merriest eye,— I have perhaps some shallow spirit of judgment; But in these nice sharp quillets of the law, Good faith, I am no wiser than a daw. -King Henry VI. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.

Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that read more

Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that loured upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths, Our bruised arms hung up for monuments, Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front; And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass; I, that am rudely stamped, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them,— Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun. -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 1.