William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
This fellow pecks up wit, as pigeons pease,
And utters it again when God doth please.
This fellow pecks up wit, as pigeons pease,
And utters it again when God doth please.
Me of my lawful pleasure she restrained
And prayed me oft forbearance--did it with
A pudency so read more
Me of my lawful pleasure she restrained
And prayed me oft forbearance--did it with
A pudency so rosy, the sweet view on't
Might well have warmed old Saturn--that I thought her
As chaste as unsunned snow.
Light seeking light doth light of light beguile. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.
Light seeking light doth light of light beguile. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.
This is the short and the long of it. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 2.
This is the short and the long of it. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 2.
That 's a perilous shot out of an elder-gun. -King Henry V. Act iv. Sc. 1.
That 's a perilous shot out of an elder-gun. -King Henry V. Act iv. Sc. 1.
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.
Play out the play. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.
Play out the play. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.
If there be no great love in the beginning, yet heaven may decrease it upon better acquaintance, when we are read more
If there be no great love in the beginning, yet heaven may decrease it upon better acquaintance, when we are married and have more occasion to know one another: I hope, upon familiarity will grow more contempt. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. 1.
If the rascal have not given me medicines to make me love him, I 'll be hanged. -King Henry IV. read more
If the rascal have not given me medicines to make me love him, I 'll be hanged. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 2.
The spinsters and the knitters in the sun And the free maids that weave their thread with bones Do use read more
The spinsters and the knitters in the sun And the free maids that weave their thread with bones Do use to chant it: it is silly sooth, And dallies with the innocence of love, Like the old age. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 4.
