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Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and Are melted into air, read more
Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and Are melted into air, into thin air: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on; and our little life Is rounded with a sleep. -The Tempest. Act iv. Sc. 1.
Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me From mine own library with volumes that I prize above my dukedom. read more
Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me From mine own library with volumes that I prize above my dukedom. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.
With foreheads villanous low. -The Tempest. Act iv. Sc. 1.
With foreheads villanous low. -The Tempest. Act iv. Sc. 1.
'T is strange that death should sing. I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan, Who chants a doleful read more
'T is strange that death should sing. I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan, Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death, And from the organ-pipe of frailty sings His soul and body to their lasting rest. -King John. Act v. Sc. 7.
Another lean unwashed artificer. -King John. Act iv. Sc. 2.
Another lean unwashed artificer. -King John. Act iv. Sc. 2.
If there be no great love in the beginning, yet heaven may decrease it upon better acquaintance, when we are read more
If there be no great love in the beginning, yet heaven may decrease it upon better acquaintance, when we are married and have more occasion to know one another: I hope, upon familiarity will grow more contempt. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. 1.
Nor sequent centuries could hit
Orbit and sum of Shakespeare's wit.
Nor sequent centuries could hit
Orbit and sum of Shakespeare's wit.
Poor deer, quoth he, thou makest a testament As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more To that which had read more
Poor deer, quoth he, thou makest a testament As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more To that which had too much. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 1.
We burn daylight. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 1.
We burn daylight. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 1.
