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.

Delivers in such apt and gracious words That aged ears play truant at his tales, And younger hearings are quite read more

Delivers in such apt and gracious words That aged ears play truant at his tales, And younger hearings are quite ravished; So sweet and voluble is his discourse. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act ii. Sc. 1.

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here we will sit and let the sounds of music Creep in read more

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here we will sit and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold: There 's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins. Such harmony is in immortal souls; But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.

Shall I never see a bachelor of threescore again? -Much Ado about Nothing. Act i. Sc. 1.

Shall I never see a bachelor of threescore again? -Much Ado about Nothing. Act i. Sc. 1.

By my penny of observation. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iii. Sc. 1.

By my penny of observation. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on,—how then? Can honour set read more

Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on,—how then? Can honour set to a leg? no: or an arm? no: or take away the grief of a wound? no. Honour hath no skill in surgery, then? no. What is honour? a word. What is in that word honour; what is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? he that died o' Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? no. 'T is insensible, then? yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living? no. Why? detraction will not suffer it. Therefore I 'll none of it. Honour is a mere scutcheon. And so ends my catechism. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. Sc. 1.

There are a sort of men whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond. -The Merchant of Venice. read more

There are a sort of men whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 1.

We would, and we would not. -Measure for Measure. Act iv. Sc. 4.

We would, and we would not. -Measure for Measure. Act iv. Sc. 4.

Yet in bestowing, madam, He was most princely. -King Henry VIII. Act iv. Sc. 2.

Yet in bestowing, madam, He was most princely. -King Henry VIII. Act iv. Sc. 2.