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Fill all thy bones with aches. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.
Fill all thy bones with aches. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.
How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here we will sit and let the sounds of music Creep in read more
How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here we will sit and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold: There 's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins. Such harmony is in immortal souls; But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.
If I say that Shakespeare is the greatest of intellects, I have
said all concerning him. But there is read more
If I say that Shakespeare is the greatest of intellects, I have
said all concerning him. But there is more in Shakespeare's
intellect than we have yet seen. It is what I call an
unconscious intellect; there is more virtue in it that he himself
is aware of.
He is the half part of a blessed man, Left to be finished by such as she; And she a read more
He is the half part of a blessed man, Left to be finished by such as she; And she a fair divided excellence, Whose fulness of perfection lies in him. -King John. Act ii. Sc. 1.
Sir, he made a chimney in my father's house, and the bricks are alive at this day to testify it. read more
Sir, he made a chimney in my father's house, and the bricks are alive at this day to testify it. -King Henry VI. Part II. Act iv. Sc. 2.
This day is called the feast of Crispian: He that outlives this day and comes safe home, Will stand a read more
This day is called the feast of Crispian: He that outlives this day and comes safe home, Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named, And rouse him at the name of Crispian. -King Henry V. Act iv. Sc. 3.
Nor sequent centuries could hit
Orbit and sum of Shakespeare's wit.
Nor sequent centuries could hit
Orbit and sum of Shakespeare's wit.
I charge thee, fling away ambition: By that sin fell the angels. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.
I charge thee, fling away ambition: By that sin fell the angels. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.
Our compell'd sins Stand more for number than for accompt. -Measure for Measure. Act ii. Sc. 4.
Our compell'd sins Stand more for number than for accompt. -Measure for Measure. Act ii. Sc. 4.
