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I am sure care 's an enemy to life. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 3.
I am sure care 's an enemy to life. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 3.
To be a well-favoured man is the gift of fortune; but to write and read comes by nature. -Much Ado read more
To be a well-favoured man is the gift of fortune; but to write and read comes by nature. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.
Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that read more
Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that loured upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths, Our bruised arms hung up for monuments, Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front; And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass; I, that am rudely stamped, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them,— Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun. -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 1.
Fill all thy bones with aches. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.
Fill all thy bones with aches. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.
Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes: Nothing read more
Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes: Nothing of him that doth fade But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.
In those holy fields Over whose acres walked those blessed feet Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd For our read more
In those holy fields Over whose acres walked those blessed feet Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd For our advantage on the bitter cross. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 1.
Thus far into the bowels of the land Have we marched on without impediment. -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. read more
Thus far into the bowels of the land Have we marched on without impediment. -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. 2.
They are as sick that surfeit with too much, as they that starve with nothing. -The Merchant of Venice. Act read more
They are as sick that surfeit with too much, as they that starve with nothing. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 2.
