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Sits the wind in that corner? -Much Ado about Nothing. Act ii. Sc. 3.
Sits the wind in that corner? -Much Ado about Nothing. Act ii. Sc. 3.
The rational hind Costard. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 2.
The rational hind Costard. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 2.
I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. He hates our sacred nation, and he rails, Even there read more
I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. He hates our sacred nation, and he rails, Even there where merchants most do congregate. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.
That would hang us, every mother's son. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 2.
That would hang us, every mother's son. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 2.
The king's name is a tower of strength. -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. 3.
The king's name is a tower of strength. -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. 3.
They have measured many a mile To tread a measure with you on this grass. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act read more
They have measured many a mile To tread a measure with you on this grass. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 2.
I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated To closeness and the bettering of my mind. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. read more
I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated To closeness and the bettering of my mind. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.
Speak me fair in death. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.
Speak me fair in death. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.
Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on,—how then? Can honour set read more
Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on,—how then? Can honour set to a leg? no: or an arm? no: or take away the grief of a wound? no. Honour hath no skill in surgery, then? no. What is honour? a word. What is in that word honour; what is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? he that died o' Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? no. 'T is insensible, then? yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living? no. Why? detraction will not suffer it. Therefore I 'll none of it. Honour is a mere scutcheon. And so ends my catechism. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. Sc. 1.