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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.
We are ready to try our fortunes To the last man. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act iv. Sc. 2.
We are ready to try our fortunes To the last man. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act iv. Sc. 2.
It goes much against my stomach. Hast any philosophy in thee, shepherd? -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.
It goes much against my stomach. Hast any philosophy in thee, shepherd? -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.
Winding up days with toil and nights with sleep. -King Henry V. Act iv. Sc. 1.
Winding up days with toil and nights with sleep. -King Henry V. Act iv. Sc. 1.
Few of the university pen plaies well, they smell too much of
that writer Ovid and that writer Metamorphosis read more
Few of the university pen plaies well, they smell too much of
that writer Ovid and that writer Metamorphosis and talk too much
of Prosperpina and Jupiter. Why, here's our fellow Shakespeare
puts them all down. Aye, and Ben Jonson too. O that B.J. is a
pestilent fellow, he brought up Horace giving poets a pill, but
our fellow, Shakespeare, hath given him a purge that made him
beray his credit.
I do now remember the poor creature, small beer. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act ii. Sc. 2.
I do now remember the poor creature, small beer. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act ii. 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.
The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act v. Sc. 1.
The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act v. Sc. 1.
Food for powder, food for powder; they 'll fill a pit as well as better. -King Henry IV. Part I. read more
Food for powder, food for powder; they 'll fill a pit as well as better. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iv. Sc. 2.