Thus far into the bowels of the land Have we marched on without impediment. -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. read more

Thus far into the bowels of the land Have we marched on without impediment. -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. 2.

Ships are but boards, sailors but men: there be land-rats and water-rats, water-thieves and land-thieves. -The Merchant of Venice. Act read more

Ships are but boards, sailors but men: there be land-rats and water-rats, water-thieves and land-thieves. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.

I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. -King Henry V. Act iii. Sc. 1.

I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. -King Henry V. Act iii. Sc. 1.

When great poets sing,
Into the night new constellations spring,
With music in the air that dulls read more

When great poets sing,
Into the night new constellations spring,
With music in the air that dulls the craft
Of rhetoric. So when Shakespeare sang or laughed
The world with long, sweet Alpine echoes thrilled
Voiceless to scholars' tongues no muse had filled
With melody divine.

And thus I clothe my naked villany With old odd ends stolen out of holy writ, And seem a saint read more

And thus I clothe my naked villany With old odd ends stolen out of holy writ, And seem a saint when most I play the devil. -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 3.

The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act v. Sc. 3.

The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act v. Sc. 3.

I were better to be eaten to death with a rust than to be scoured to nothing with perpetual motion. read more

I were better to be eaten to death with a rust than to be scoured to nothing with perpetual motion. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act i. Sc. 2.

A needy, hollow-eyed, sharp-looking wretch, A living-dead man. -The Comedy of Errors. Act v. Sc. 1.

A needy, hollow-eyed, sharp-looking wretch, A living-dead man. -The Comedy of Errors. Act v. Sc. 1.

This was Shakespeare's form;
Who walked in every path of human life,
Felt every passion; and to read more

This was Shakespeare's form;
Who walked in every path of human life,
Felt every passion; and to all mankind
Doth now, will ever, that experience yield
Which his own genius only could acquire.