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Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour, Found thee read more
Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour, Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in; A sure and safe one, though thy master missed it. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.
If all the year were playing holidays, To sport would be as tedious as to work. -King Henry IV. Part read more
If all the year were playing holidays, To sport would be as tedious as to work. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 2.
I was not born under a rhyming planet. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. Sc. 2.
I was not born under a rhyming planet. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. Sc. 2.
All the world 's a stage, And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their read more
All the world 's a stage, And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard; Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lined, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side; His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.
'T is better to be lowly born, And range with humble livers in content, Than to be perked up in read more
'T is better to be lowly born, And range with humble livers in content, Than to be perked up in a glistering grief, And wear a golden sorrow. -King Henry VIII. Act ii. Sc. 3.
For the rain it raineth every day. -Twelfth Night. Act v. Sc. 1.
For the rain it raineth every day. -Twelfth Night. Act v. Sc. 1.
He that wants money, means, and content is without three good friends. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.
He that wants money, means, and content is without three good friends. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.
All hell shall stir for this. -King Henry V. Act v. Sc. 1.
All hell shall stir for this. -King Henry V. Act v. Sc. 1.
