Faith, thou hast some crotchets in thy head now. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 1.

Faith, thou hast some crotchets in thy head now. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 1.

I am all the daughters of my father's house, And all the brothers too. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 4.

I am all the daughters of my father's house, And all the brothers too. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 4.

That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man, If with his tongue he cannot win a woman. read more

That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man, If with his tongue he cannot win a woman. -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act iii. Sc. 1.

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.

The human mortals. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act ii. Sc. 1.

The human mortals. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act ii. Sc. 1.

If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. read more

If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.

Renowned Spenser, lie a thought more nigh
To learned Chaucer, and rare Beaumont lie
A little nearer read more

Renowned Spenser, lie a thought more nigh
To learned Chaucer, and rare Beaumont lie
A little nearer Spenser, to make room
For Shakespeare in your threefold, fourfold tomb.

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here we will sit and let the sounds of music Creep in read more

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here we will sit and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold: There 's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins. Such harmony is in immortal souls; But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.

It would be argument for a week, laughter for a month, and a good jest for ever. -King Henry IV. read more

It would be argument for a week, laughter for a month, and a good jest for ever. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 2.