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One Pinch, a hungry lean-faced villain, A mere anatomy. -The Comedy of Errors. Act v. Sc. 1.
One Pinch, a hungry lean-faced villain, A mere anatomy. -The Comedy of Errors. Act v. Sc. 1.
Unless experience be a jewel. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 2.
Unless experience be a jewel. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 2.
There 's the humour of it. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 1.
There 's the humour of it. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 1.
He that dies pays all debts. -The Tempest. Act iii. Sc. 2.
He that dies pays all debts. -The Tempest. Act iii. Sc. 2.
Superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, but competency lives longer. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 2.
Superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, but competency lives longer. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 2.
At Christmas I no more desire a rose Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled mirth; But like of each read more
At Christmas I no more desire a rose Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled mirth; But like of each thing that in season grows. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.
Close up his eyes and draw the curtain close; And let us all to meditation. -King Henry VI. Part II. read more
Close up his eyes and draw the curtain close; And let us all to meditation. -King Henry VI. Part II. Act iii. Sc. 3.
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.
He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act read more
He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 1.
