William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
The why is plain as way to parish church. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.
The why is plain as way to parish church. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.
The young gentleman, according to Fates and Destinies and such odd sayings, the Sisters Three and such branches of learning, read more
The young gentleman, according to Fates and Destinies and such odd sayings, the Sisters Three and such branches of learning, is indeed deceased; or, as you would say in plain terms, gone to heaven. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 2.
A merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal. -Love's Labour 's Lost. read more
A merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act ii. Sc. 1.
I have touched the highest point of all my greatness; And from that full meridian of my glory I haste read more
I have touched the highest point of all my greatness; And from that full meridian of my glory I haste now to my setting: I shall fall Like a bright exhalation in the evening, And no man see me more. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.
An you had any eye behind you, you might see more detraction at your heels than fortunes before you. -Twelfth read more
An you had any eye behind you, you might see more detraction at your heels than fortunes before you. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 5.
Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were but little happy, if I could say how much. -Much Ado read more
Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were but little happy, if I could say how much. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act ii. Sc. 1.
Thou troublest me; I am not in the vein. -King Richard III. Act iv. Sc. 2.
Thou troublest me; I am not in the vein. -King Richard III. Act iv. Sc. 2.
Blow, blow, thou winter wind! Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. read more
Blow, blow, thou winter wind! Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.
Friends, Romans countrymen, lend me your ears;
I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.
Friends, Romans countrymen, lend me your ears;
I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.
When holy and devout religious men
Are at their beads, 'tis much to draw them thence,
So read more
When holy and devout religious men
Are at their beads, 'tis much to draw them thence,
So sweet is zealous contemplation.
