Anger is like A full-hot horse, who being allow'd his way, Self-mettle tires him. -King Henry VIII. Act i. Sc. read more

Anger is like A full-hot horse, who being allow'd his way, Self-mettle tires him. -King Henry VIII. Act i. Sc. 1.

Few of the university pen plaies well, they smell too much of
that writer Ovid and that writer Metamorphosis read more

Few of the university pen plaies well, they smell too much of
that writer Ovid and that writer Metamorphosis and talk too much
of Prosperpina and Jupiter. Why, here's our fellow Shakespeare
puts them all down. Aye, and Ben Jonson too. O that B.J. is a
pestilent fellow, he brought up Horace giving poets a pill, but
our fellow, Shakespeare, hath given him a purge that made him
beray his credit.

But love is blind, and lovers cannot see The pretty follies that themselves commit. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. read more

But love is blind, and lovers cannot see The pretty follies that themselves commit. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 6.

The weariest and most loathed worldly life That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment Can lay on nature, is a paradise read more

The weariest and most loathed worldly life That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment Can lay on nature, is a paradise To what we fear of death. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.

The fringed curtains of thine eye advance. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.

The fringed curtains of thine eye advance. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.

I have an exposition of sleep come upon me. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act iv. Sc. 1.

I have an exposition of sleep come upon me. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act iv. Sc. 1.

Sail like my pinnace to these golden shores. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. 3.

Sail like my pinnace to these golden shores. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. 3.

Every one fault seeming monstrous till his fellow-fault came to match it. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Every one fault seeming monstrous till his fellow-fault came to match it. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.

For it so falls out That what we have we prize not to the worth Whiles we enjoy it, but read more

For it so falls out That what we have we prize not to the worth Whiles we enjoy it, but being lack'd and lost, Why, then we rack the value; then we find The virtue that possession would not show us Whiles it was ours. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iv. Sc. 1.