O, who can hold a fire in his hand By thinking on the frosty Caucasus? Or cloy the hungry edge read more

O, who can hold a fire in his hand By thinking on the frosty Caucasus? Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite By bare imagination of a feast? Or wallow naked in December snow By thinking on fantastic summer's heat? O, no! the apprehension of the good Gives but the greater feeling to the worse. -King Richard II. Act i. Sc. 3.

They say, best men are moulded out of faults, And, for the most, become much more the better For being read more

They say, best men are moulded out of faults, And, for the most, become much more the better For being a little bad. -Measure for Measure. Act v. Sc. 1.

The mirror of all courtesy. -King Henry VIII. Act ii. Sc. 1.

The mirror of all courtesy. -King Henry VIII. Act ii. Sc. 1.

Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on,—how then? Can honour set read more

Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on,—how then? Can honour set to a leg? no: or an arm? no: or take away the grief of a wound? no. Honour hath no skill in surgery, then? no. What is honour? a word. What is in that word honour; what is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? he that died o' Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? no. 'T is insensible, then? yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living? no. Why? detraction will not suffer it. Therefore I 'll none of it. Honour is a mere scutcheon. And so ends my catechism. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. Sc. 1.

You shall comprehend all vagrom men. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.

You shall comprehend all vagrom men. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.

I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. -King Henry V. Act iii. Sc. 1.

I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. -King Henry V. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reap'd Showed like a stubble-land at harvest-home; He was perfumed like a read more

Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reap'd Showed like a stubble-land at harvest-home; He was perfumed like a milliner, And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held A pouncet-box, which ever and anon He gave his nose and took 't away again. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 3.

And then to breakfast with What appetite you have. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.

And then to breakfast with What appetite you have. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.

And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by, He called them untaught knaves, unmannerly, To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse read more

And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by, He called them untaught knaves, unmannerly, To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse Betwixt the wind and his nobility. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 3.