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Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts read more
Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form. -King John. Act iii. Sc. 4.
The stream of Time, which is continually washing the dissoluble
fabrics of other poets, passes without injury by the read more
The stream of Time, which is continually washing the dissoluble
fabrics of other poets, passes without injury by the adamant of
Shakespeare.
All plumed like estridges that with the wind Baited like eagles having lately bathed; Glittering in golden coats, like images; read more
All plumed like estridges that with the wind Baited like eagles having lately bathed; Glittering in golden coats, like images; As full of spirit as the month of May, And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iv. Sc. 1.
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.
Merrily, merrily shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. -The Tempest. Act v. Sc. 1.
Merrily, merrily shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. -The Tempest. Act v. Sc. 1.
Many can brook the weather that love not the wind. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2.
Many can brook the weather that love not the wind. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2.
A harmless necessary cat. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.
A harmless necessary cat. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.
Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two grains read more
Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff: you shall seek all day ere you find them, and when you have them, they are not worth the search. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 1.
Let there be gall enough in thy ink; though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. read more
Let there be gall enough in thy ink; though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 2.
