Tester I 'll have in pouch, when thou shalt lack, Base Phrygian Turk! -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. read more

Tester I 'll have in pouch, when thou shalt lack, Base Phrygian Turk! -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. 3.

Now my soul hath elbow-room. -King John. Act v. Sc. 7.

Now my soul hath elbow-room. -King John. Act v. Sc. 7.

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.

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.

These most brisk and giddy-paced times. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 4.

These most brisk and giddy-paced times. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 4.

The sense of death is most in apprehension; And the poor beetle, that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance finds read more

The sense of death is most in apprehension; And the poor beetle, that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.

That daffed the world aside, And bid it pass. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iv. Sc. 1.

That daffed the world aside, And bid it pass. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iv. Sc. 1.

The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for read more

The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus. Let no such man be trusted. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.

The lunatic, the lover, and the poet Are of imagination all compact: One sees more devils than vast hell can read more

The lunatic, the lover, and the poet Are of imagination all compact: One sees more devils than vast hell can hold, That is, the madman: the lover, all as frantic, Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt: The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven; And as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing A local habitation and a name. Such tricks hath strong imagination, That if it would but apprehend some joy, It comprehends some bringer of that joy; Or in the night, imagining some fear, How easy is a bush supposed a bear! -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act v. Sc. 1.