Give you a reason on compulsion! If reasons were as plentiful as blackberries, I would give no man a reason read more

Give you a reason on compulsion! If reasons were as plentiful as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion, I. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.

Saint George, that swinged the dragon, and e'er since Sits on his horse back at mine hostess' door. -King John. read more

Saint George, that swinged the dragon, and e'er since Sits on his horse back at mine hostess' door. -King John. Act ii. Sc. 1.

The miserable have no other medicine, But only hope. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.

The miserable have no other medicine, But only hope. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.

How many things by season season'd are To their right praise and true perfection! -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. read more

How many things by season season'd are To their right praise and true perfection! -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.

After my death I wish no other herald, No other speaker of my living actions, To keep mine honour from read more

After my death I wish no other herald, No other speaker of my living actions, To keep mine honour from corruption, But such an honest chronicler as Griffith. -King Henry VIII. Act iv. Sc. 2.

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.

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.

The big round tears Coursed one another down his innocent nose In piteous chase. -As You Like It. Act ii. read more

The big round tears Coursed one another down his innocent nose In piteous chase. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 1.

My friends were poor but honest. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act i. Sc. 3.

My friends were poor but honest. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act i. Sc. 3.