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We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. -King Henry V. Act iv. Sc. 3.
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. -King Henry V. Act iv. Sc. 3.
Like one Who having into truth, by telling of it, Made such a sinner of his memory, To credit his read more
Like one Who having into truth, by telling of it, Made such a sinner of his memory, To credit his own lie. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.
I will be correspondent to command, And do my spiriting gently. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.
I will be correspondent to command, And do my spiriting gently. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.
Thou troublest me; I am not in the vein. -King Richard III. Act iv. Sc. 2.
Thou troublest me; I am not in the vein. -King Richard III. Act iv. Sc. 2.
Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. Sc. 4.
Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. Sc. 4.
Was ever woman in this humour wooed? Was ever woman in this humour won? -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. read more
Was ever woman in this humour wooed? Was ever woman in this humour won? -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 2.
An honest tale speeds best, being plainly told. -King Richard III. Act iv. Sc. 4.
An honest tale speeds best, being plainly told. -King Richard III. Act iv. Sc. 4.
Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender read more
Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him; The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root, And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured, Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory, But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride At length broke under me and now has left me, Weary and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must forever hide me. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye: I feel my heart new opened. O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours! There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have: And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.
A rascally yea-forsooth knave. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act i. Sc. 2.
A rascally yea-forsooth knave. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act i. Sc. 2.
