All things that are, Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd. How like a younker or a prodigal The scarfed read more

All things that are, Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd. How like a younker or a prodigal The scarfed bark puts from her native bay, Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind! How like the prodigal doth she return, With over-weather'd ribs and ragged sails, Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind! -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 6.

Let me take you a button-hole lower. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 2.

Let me take you a button-hole lower. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 2.

An I have not forgotten what the inside of a church is made of, I am a pepper-corn. -King Henry read more

An I have not forgotten what the inside of a church is made of, I am a pepper-corn. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iii. Sc. 3.

It adds a precious seeing to the eye. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 3.

It adds a precious seeing to the eye. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 3.

Framed in the prodigality of nature. -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 2.

Framed in the prodigality of nature. -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 2.

And if his name be George, I 'll call him Peter; For new-made honour doth forget men's names. -King John. read more

And if his name be George, I 'll call him Peter; For new-made honour doth forget men's names. -King John. Act i. Sc. 1.

A mad fellow met me on the way and told me I had unloaded all the gibbets and pressed the read more

A mad fellow met me on the way and told me I had unloaded all the gibbets and pressed the dead bodies. No eye hath seen such scarecrows. I 'll not march through Coventry with them, that 's flat: nay, and the villains march wide betwixt the legs, as if they had gyves on; for indeed I had the most of them out of prison. There 's but a shirt and a half in all my company; and the half-shirt is two napkins tacked together and thrown over the shoulders like an herald's coat without sleeves. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iv. Sc. 2.

Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast, Ready with every nod to tumble down. -King Richard III. Act iii. read more

Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast, Ready with every nod to tumble down. -King Richard III. Act iii. Sc. 4.

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, Or close the wall up with our English dead! In peace read more

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, Or close the wall up with our English dead! In peace there 's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility; But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger: Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood. -King Henry V. Act iii. Sc. 1.