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For aught that I could ever read, Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never read more
For aught that I could ever read, Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 1.
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.
Lord, what fools these mortals be! -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act iii. Sc. 2.
Lord, what fools these mortals be! -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act iii. Sc. 2.
A Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a good boy. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.
A Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a good boy. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.
It would be argument for a week, laughter for a month, and a good jest for ever. -King Henry IV. read more
It would be argument for a week, laughter for a month, and a good jest for ever. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 2.
To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or read more
To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful and ridiculous excess. -King John. Act iv. Sc. 2.
He was ever precise in promise-keeping. -Measure for Measure. Act i. Sc. 2.
He was ever precise in promise-keeping. -Measure for Measure. Act i. Sc. 2.
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.
The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for read more
The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus. Let no such man be trusted. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.
