Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. read more

Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 1.

Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that read more

Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that loured upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths, Our bruised arms hung up for monuments, Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front; And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass; I, that am rudely stamped, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them,— Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun. -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 1.

Who wooed in haste, and means to wed at leisure. -The Taming of the Shrew. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Who wooed in haste, and means to wed at leisure. -The Taming of the Shrew. Act iii. Sc. 2.

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.

Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them. Nought shall make us rue, If read more

Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them. Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true. -King John. Act v. Sc. 7.

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.

A man of my kidney. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act iii. Sc. 5.

A man of my kidney. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act iii. Sc. 5.

There is no vice so simple but assumes Some mark of virtue in his outward parts. -The Merchant of Venice. read more

There is no vice so simple but assumes Some mark of virtue in his outward parts. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 2.

'T is beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on: Lady, you are read more

'T is beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on: Lady, you are the cruell'st she alive If you will lead these graces to the grave And leave the world no copy. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 5.