Not all the water in the rough rude sea Can wash the balm off from an anointed king. -King Richard read more

Not all the water in the rough rude sea Can wash the balm off from an anointed king. -King Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Tush! tush! fear boys with bugs. -The Taming of the Shrew. Act i. Sc. 2.

Tush! tush! fear boys with bugs. -The Taming of the Shrew. Act i. Sc. 2.

We will answer all things faithfully. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.

We will answer all things faithfully. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.

The cunning livery of hell. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.

The cunning livery of hell. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Let still the woman take An elder than herself: so wears she to him, So sways she level in her read more

Let still the woman take An elder than herself: so wears she to him, So sways she level in her husband's heart: For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn, Than women's are. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 4.

A Daniel come to judgment! yea, a Daniel! -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.

A Daniel come to judgment! yea, a Daniel! -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.

Think of that, Master Brook. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act iii. Sc. 5.

Think of that, Master Brook. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act iii. Sc. 5.

I saw a smith stand with his hammer, thus, The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool, With open read more

I saw a smith stand with his hammer, thus, The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool, With open mouth swallowing a tailor's news. -King John. Act iv. Sc. 2.

Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand read more

Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not: Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr! -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.