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Literary Quizzes

!New! Drew's Great Quotes. Who Wrote The Words?
–	Who Wrote These Great Words? "Money is like a sixth sense without which you cannot make a complete use of the other five"
–	Who Wrote These Great Words? "money is like a reputation for ability- more easily made than kept".
–	Who Wrote These Great Words? We cannot tell the precise moment when friendship is formed. As in filling a vessel drop by drop, there is at last a drop which makes it run over; so in a series of kindnesses there is at last one which makes the heart run over."
–	" Who Wrote These Great Words? Mend your speech (a little) least it dull your fortunes."
–	Who Wrote These Great Words? "A friend may well be reckoned the masterpiece of Nature."
–	Who Wrote These Great Words? " He's a most notable coward, an infinite and endless liar, an hourly promise breaker, the owner of not one good quality "
–	Who Wrote These Great Words? “Lets meet as little as we can”
–	Who Wrote These Great Words? “Reading maketh a full man; conference a ready man; and writing an exact man”
–	Who Wrote These Great Words? ". . . . In this country it is found requisite, now and then, to put an admiral to death, in order to encourage the others to fight."
–	Who Wrote These Great Words? "A powerful agent is the right word: it lights the reader's way and makes it plain."

American Authors - Match The Name To The Title.
–	Harriet Beecher Stowe (1811-1896)
–	Edgar Rice Burroughs (1875-1950)
–	Nathaniel Hawthorne (1804-1864)
–	Mark Twain (1835-1910)
–	Jack London (1876-1916)
–	Louisa May Alcott (1832-1888)
–	John Smith (1579-1631)
–	Stephen Crane (1871-1900)
–	Lew Wallace (1827-1905)
–	Washington Irving (17830 - 1859)

Edgar Allan Poe Quiz
–	Poe wrote the first:
–	Where was Poe born?
–	Both his parents belonged to what profession?
–	Poe moved to what city after his mother died?
–	Poe married Virginia Clemm, who was she?
–	What disease claimed the lives of Poe’s mother then his wife?
–	What job made Poe many enemies?
–	What cost Poe many jobs?
–	Which famous poem repeats “Nevermore”?
–	Which insanity tale has a beating sound repeated?

Even More Shakespearian Slights, Taunts & Insults
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? " in his sleep he does little harm "
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? " Drunkenness is his best virtue "
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? " He has everything that an honest man should not have "
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? " you speak unskilfully "
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? " his intellect is not replenished "
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? " though her father be very rich, any man is so very a fool to be married to hell "
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? " He hath out-villain'd villainy "
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? " if you spend word for word with me, I shall make your wit bankrupt."
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? " you were born to do me shame "
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? " 'Hell is empty, And all the devils are here.'"

Fable folly. Name that Fable Quiz.
–	Much wants more and loses all
–	Notoriety is often mistaken for fame.
–	“But may I ask who is going to bell the cat?"
–	One swallow does not make summer.
–	Betray a friend, and you'll often find you have ruined yourself.
–	Boasters brag most when they cannot be detected.
–	Evil wishes, like fowls, come home to roost.
–	Deeds, not words.
–	Union is strength.
–	Give assistance, not advice, in a crisis.

Famous First Lines - By Author 2
–	HALF a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death
–	"Please, sir, is this Plumfield?" asked a ragged boy of the man who opened the great gate at which the omnibus left him
–	Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, "and what is the use of a book," thought Alice "without pictures or conversation?"
–	At a village of La Mancha, whose name I do not wish to remember, there lived a little while ago one of those gentlemen who are wont to keep a lance in the rack, an old buckler, a lean horse and a swift greyhound.
–	I was born in the year 1632, in the city of York, of a good family, though not of that country, my father being a foreigner of Bremen, who settled first at Hull
–	My father's family name being Pirrip, and my christian name Philip, my infant tongue could make of both names nothing longer or more explicit than Pip.
–	No one would have believed in the last years of the nineteenth century that this world was being watched keenly and closely by intelligences greater than man's and yet as mortal as his own
–	THE year 1866 was signalized by a remarkable incident, a mysterious and inexplicable phenomenon, which doubtless no one has yet forgotten. Not to mention rumors which agitated the maritime population. . .
–	Chains may subdue the feeble spirit, but thee, Tell, of the iron heart! they could not tame
–	One day it occurred to me that it had been many years since the world had been afforded the spectacle of a man adventurous enough to undertake a journey

Famous First Lines - By Title
–	"Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents,"
–	It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.
–	1801-- I have just returned from a visit to my landlord -- the solitary neighbor that I shall be troubled with.
–	All children, except one, grow up.
–	Dorothy lived in the midst of the great Kansas prairies, with Uncle Henry, who was a farmer, and Aunt Em, who was the farmer's wife.
–	Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show.
–	The Mole had been working very hard all the morning, spring-cleaning his little home.
–	Marley was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that.
–	Mr. Sherlock Holmes, who was usually very late in the mornings, save upon those not infrequent occasions when he was up all night, was seated at the breakfast table.
–	He was an inch, perhaps two, under six feet, powerfully built, and he advanced straight at you with a slight stoop of the shoulders, head forward, and a fixed from-under stare which made you think of a charging bull.

Famous First Lines - By Title 2
–	3 May. Bistritz. - Left Munich at 8:35 P.M., on 1st May, arriving at Vienna early next morning; should have arrived at 6:46, but the train was an hour late.
–	When I wrote the following pages, or rather the bulk of them, I lived alone, in the woods, a mile from any neighbor, in a house which I had built myself, on the shore of Walden Pond, in Concord, Massachusetts, and earned my living by the labor of my hands only.
–	It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness.
–	Mr. Hungerton, her father, really was the most tactless person upon earth - a fluffy, feathery, untidy cockatoo of a man, perfectly good-natured, but absolutely centered upon his own silly self.
–	Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay our scene
–	A spectre is haunting Europe- the spectre of Communism.
–	TELL ME, O MUSE, of that ingenious hero who travelled far and wide after he had sacked the famous town of Troy
–	Sing, O goddess, the anger of Achilles son of Peleus, that brought countless ills upon the Achaeans.
–	There was no possibility of taking a walk that day.
–	Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.

Famous First Lines - By Title 3
–	Buck did not read the newspapers or he would have known that trouble was brewing, not alone for himself, but for every tide-water dog, strong of muscle and with warm, long hair, from Puget Sound to San Diego.
–	THE day broke gray and dull. The clouds hung heavily, and there was a rawness in the air that suggested snow.
–	IN 1815, M. Charles Francois-Bienvenu Myriel was Bishop of D__. He was a man of seventy-five, and had occupied the bishopric of D__ since 1806. Although it in no manner concerns, even in the remotest degree, what we have to relate, it may not be useless, were it only for the sake of exactness in all things, to notice here the reports and gossip which had arisen on his account from the time of his
–	It was seven o'clock of a very warm evening in the Seeonee hills when Father Wolf woke up from his day's rest, scratched himself, yawned, and spread out his paws one after the other to get rid of the sleepy feeling in their tips.
–	Halfway down a by-street of one of our New England towns stands a rusty wooden house, with seven acutely peaked gables, facing towards various points of the compass, and a huge, clustered chimney in the midst.
–	A throng of bearded men, in sad-colored garments and gray, steeple-crowned hats, intermixed with women, some wearing hoods, and others bareheaded, was assembled in front of a wooden edifice, the door of which was heavily timbered with oak, and studded with iron spikes.
–	It is a curious thing that at my age, fifty-five last birthday, I should find myself taking up a pen to try and write a history.
–	On the first Monday of the month of April, 1625, the town of Meung, in which the author of The Romance of the Rose was born, appeared to be in a perfect state of revolution as if the Hugenots had just made a second Rochelle of it.
–	It was a feature peculiar to the colonial wars of North America, that the toils and dangers of the wilderness were to be encountered before the adverse hosts could meet.
–	Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence. . ..

Famous First Lines – By Author
–	I MET a traveller from an antique land Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert.
–	"Well, Prince, so Genoa and Lucca are now just family estates of the Buonapartes."
–	O, TO be in England Now that April's there
–	The Time Traveler (for so it will be convenient to speak of him) was expounding a recondite matter to us.
–	ALREADY THE tempest had continued six days; on the seventh its fury seemed still increasing; and the morning dawned upon us without a prospect of hope, for we had wandered so far from the right track . ..
–	Call me Ishmael.
–	You will rejoice to hear that no disaster has accompanied the commencement of an enterprise which you have regarded with such evil forebodings.
–	You don't know about me without you have read a book by the name of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer; but that ain't no matter.
–	Mr. Utterson the lawyer was a man of a rugged countenance, that was never lighted by a smile; cold, scanty and embarrassed in discourse; backward in sentiment; lean, long, dusty, dreary and yet somehow lovable.
–	I will begin the story of my adventures with a certain morning early in the month of June, the year of grace 1751, when I took the key for the last time out of the door of my father's house.

Famous First Lines of Poetry Quiz
–	Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote, “By the Shore of Gitche Gumee,/by the shining Big-Sea Water” as the first line in which poem?
–	Alfred Lord Tennyson wrote, “Half a league, half a league” as the first line in which poem?
–	Robert Browning wrote, “Oh, to be in England/Now that April’s there,” as the first line in which poem?
–	William Cullen Bryant wrote, “Chains may subdue the feeble spirit, but thee,/Tell, of the iron heart! They could not tame!” as the first line in which poem?
–	Ezra Pound wrote, “Go, my songs, to the lonely and the unsatisfied” as the first line in which poem?
–	John Keats wrote, “Thou still unravish’d bride of quietness,/Thou foster-child of silence and slow time” as the first line in which poem?
–	Rudard Kipling wrote, “You may talk o’gin and beer” as the first line in which poem?
–	Oscar Wilde wrote, “To drift with every passion till my soul/Is a stringed lute on which all winds can play” as the first line in which poem?
–	Robert Frost wrote, “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood” as the first line in which poem?
–	William Wordsworth wrote, “Five years have past; five summers, with the length/Of five long winters! and again I hear/These waters” as the first line in which poem?

General Knowledge Literature Quiz
–	Who banished Ppets in "The Reputlic"?
–	The Leaves of Grass contains poetry from which Poet?
–	In "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner," what animal is killed?
–	Where did Sherlock Holms live?
–	Fyodor Dostoyevsky's famous novel, "Crime and Punishment", is set in what country?
–	Fill in the missing words. It was the best of times, ..
–	Fill in the missing words, "Two roads diverge in a wood and I _________"
–	What Book contains this thought? "A military operation involves deception. Even though you are competent, appear to be incompetent."
–	What was Hans Christian Anderson's nationality?
–	Who wrote, "I wandered Lonely as a Cloud?"

Is It Shakespeare Or The Bible Quiz? 1
–	Many of our everyday sayings come either from Shakespeare or the Bible. Which is this? "For blessed are the peacemakers on earth"
–	Many of our everyday sayings come either from Shakespeare or the Bible. Which is this? "A house divided"
–	Many of our everyday sayings come either from Shakespeare or the Bible. Which is this? "In my mind's eye"
–	Many of our everyday sayings come either from Shakespeare or the Bible. Which is this? "All men are liars"
–	Many of our everyday sayings come either from Shakespeare or the Bible. Which is this? "It was Greek to me"
–	Many of our everyday sayings come either from Shakespeare or the Bible. Which is this? "Labour of love"
–	Many of our everyday sayings come either from Shakespeare or the Bible. Which is this? "A little more than kin, and less than kind"
–	Many of our everyday sayings come either from Shakespeare or the Bible. Which is this? "More in sorrow than in anger"
–	Many of our everyday sayings come either from Shakespeare or the Bible. Which is this? "Out of the mouth of babes"
–	Many of our everyday sayings come either from Shakespeare or the Bible. Which is this? "Pearls before swine"

Is It Shakespeare Or The Bible Quiz? 2
–	Many of our everyday sayings come either from Shakespeare or the Bible. Which is this? "Physician, heal thyself"
–	Many of our everyday sayings come either from Shakespeare or the Bible. Which is this? "Thou art weighed in the balances, and art found wanting" Now - "Weighed in the balance and found wanting"
–	Many of our everyday sayings come either from Shakespeare or the Bible. Which is this? "What a piece of work is man"
–	Many of our everyday sayings come either from Shakespeare or the Bible. Which is this? "Wars and rumours of wars"
–	Many of our everyday sayings come either from Shakespeare or the Bible. Which is this? "Vanity of vanities"
–	Many of our everyday sayings come either from Shakespeare or the Bible. Which is this? "Twinkling of an eye"
–	Many of our everyday sayings come either from Shakespeare or the Bible. Which is this? "Too much of a good thing"
–	Many of our everyday sayings come either from Shakespeare or the Bible. Which is this? "Unto Caesar"
–	Many of our everyday sayings come either from Shakespeare or the Bible. Which is this? "To gild refined gold, to paint the lily" Now - "Gild the lily"
–	Many of our everyday sayings come either from Shakespeare or the Bible. Which is this? "His legs of iron, his feet part of iron and part of clay". Now - "Feet of clay"

Love Poems. Love Quotes. Love Quiz.
–	Pick The Missing Line.Some love too little, __________
–	Pick The Missing Line.Earth's the right place for love: ___________ .
–	Pick The Missing Line.I looked here; I looked there; __________
–	Pick The Missing Line.COME live with me and be my Love, __________ .
–	Pick The Missing Line.HOW do I love thee? __________ .
–	Pick The Missing Line.that my love were in my arms, __________ .
–	Pick The Missing Line.O MY Luve's like a red, red rose, __________ .
–	Pick The Missing Line.Ah, what a world of love was at her feet! __________ .
–	Pick The Missing Line.All-Gracious! grant, to those that bear, A mother's charge, the strength and light, _______ ,In ways of Love, and Truth, and Right.
–	Pick The Missing Line.IF thou must love me, let it be for nought. __________ .

More Shakespearian Slights, Taunts & Insults.
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? " there's small choice in rotten apples "
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? "I say the gentleman had drunk himself out of his five sentences"
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? " Thy sin's not accidental, but a trade "
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? "Come, you are a tedious fool"
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? " False face must hide what the false heart doth know "
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? " I took thee for thy better "
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? " Show your sheep-biting face, and be hang'd an hour! "
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? " Vile worm, thou wast o'erlook'd even in thy birth "
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? " Methink'st thou art a general offence, and every man should beat thee "
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? " You are not worth another word "

Name that Author Quiz
–	Annabel Lee
–	Anne of Green Gables
–	Around the World in Eighty Days
–	At the Earth’s Core
–	Swiss Family Robinson
–	The Phantom of the Opera
–	Treasure Island
–	Prince and the Pauper
–	Pinocchio
–	Pygmalion

Name That Author Quiz 2
–	People of the Abyss
–	The Pathfinder
–	Pilgrim’s Progress
–	The Owl and the Pussy-Cat
–	Mysterious Island
–	Heidi
–	Pride and Prejudice
–	Way of all Flesh
–	And Did Those Feet
–	Invictus

Name The Sayings - Aesop’s Fables Quiz
–	Gratitude is the sign of noble souls.
–	It is best to prepare for the days of necessity.
–	Slow and steady wins the race.
–	Never trust a friend who deserts you in a pinch
–	Do not count your chickens before they are hatched
–	Persuasion is better than force.
–	Better beans and bacon in peace, than cakes and ale in fear.
–	Little friends may prove great friends.
–	Necessity is the mother of invention.
–	Look before you leap.

Robert Frost First Line
–	Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,And sorry I could not travel both
–	The city had withdrawn into itselfAnd left at last the country to the country;
–	All out of doors looked darkly in at himThrough the thin frost, almost in separate stars
–	She stood against the kitchen sink, and looked Over the sink out through a dusty window
–	"When I was just as far as I could walk From here to-day,
–	As I went down the hill along the wall There was a gate I had leaned at for the view
–	"Oh, let's go up the hill and scare ourselves, As reckless as the best of them to-night,
–	Love has earth to which she clings With hills and circling arms about-
–	You come to fetch me from my work to-night When supper's on the table, and we'll see
–	Once on the kind of day called "weather breeder," When the heat slowly hazes and the sun

Shakespeare Quotation Quiz
–	Unbidden guests Are often welcomest when they are gone.
–	There's no time for a man to recover his hair that grows bald by nature.
–	For blessed are the peacemakers on earth.
–	Talkers are no good doers.
–	Now 'tis the spring, and weeds are shallow-rooted; Suffer them now, and they'll o'ergrow the garden
–	A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!
–	In thy face I see The map of honour, truth, and loyalty!
–	Off with his head!
–	The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers.
–	My crown is in my heart, not on my head;

Shakespeare Quotation Quiz 2
–	Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind:
–	Love comforteth like sunshine after rain
–	Now is the winter of our discontent
–	No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity
–	There is something in the wind
–	Ill deeds is doubled with an evil word.
–	Beauty itself doth of itself persuade
–	Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge.
–	These words are razors to my wounded heart.
–	I'll not budge an inch

Shakespeare Quotation Quiz 3
–	There's small choice in rotten apples.
–	sink or swim
–	I know a trick worth two
–	it would be argument for a week, laughter for a month, and a good jest for ever
–	The better part of valour is discretion
–	Lord, Lord, how this world is given to lying
–	The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose
–	it is a wise father that knows his own child
–	But love is blind, and lovers cannot see
–	If you prick us, do we not bleed?

Shakespeare Quotation Quiz 4
–	Old fashions please me best
–	For such an injury would vex a very saint
–	This is a way to kill a wife with kindness
–	The naked truth of it is: I have no shirt
–	Mad world! mad kings! mad composition!
–	Bell, book, and candle, shall not drive me back
–	as quiet as a lamb
–	Heaven take my soul, and England keep my bones!
–	The purest treasure mortal times afford Is spotless reputation
–	I count myself in nothing else so happy As in a soul rememb'ring my good friends

Shakespeare Quotation Quiz 5
–	Lord, what fools these mortals be
–	A pair of star-cross'd lovers
–	A plague o' both your houses!
–	O, I am fortune's fool
–	Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy
–	the strength Of twenty men
–	tempt not a desp'rate man
–	You tread upon my patience
–	Do all men kill the things they do not love?
–	He is well paid that is well satisfied

Shakespeare Quotation Quiz 6
–	I will make a Star Chamber matter of it
–	this is the short and the long of it
–	I cannot tell what the dickens his name is
–	Rumour is a pipe Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures,
–	He hath eaten me out of house and home
–	Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown
–	men of few words are the best men
–	But if it be a sin to covet honour, I am the most offending soul alive
–	as merry as the day is long
–	Speak low if you speak love

Shakespeare's Slights, Taunts & Insults.
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? "He is not the flower of courtesy"
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? " A plague on both your houses "
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? " He's a most notable coward, an infinite and endless liar, an hourly promise breaker, the owner of not one good quality "
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? " Die a beggar "
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? " Pray you, stand farther from me "
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? " Lets meet as little as we can "
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? " I was seeking for a fool when I found you"
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? " There's many a man hath more hair than wit "
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? " He that depends upon your favours swims with fins of lead "
–	Need a great barb, taunt or insult? Try Shakespeare. He’s the best. It's fun. Which Play Is This Quote From? " The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes "

Famous Quotations

	"A gentleman who had been very unhappy in marriage, married immediately after his wife died: Johnson said, it was the triumph of hope over experience.
	"But he has nothing on at all," cried at last the whole people. That made a deep impression upon the emperor, for it seemed to him that they were right; but he thought to himself, "Now I must bear up to the end." And the chamberlains walked with still greater dignity, as if they carried the train which did not exist.
	"Housekeeping ain't no joke."
	"I thought those Grapes were ripe, but I see now they are quite sour."
	"I'm not going without my dinner"
	"If you really want me to look sleek and well, you must comb me less and feed me more."
	"Indifferent! Oh! no- I never conceived you could become indifferent. Letters are no matter of indifference; they are generally a very positive curse."
	"It's so dreadful to be poor!"
	"Oh, I'll throw him in for nothing if you'll buy the other two."
	"Optimism," said Cacambo, "what is that?" "Alas!" replied Candide, "it is the obstinacy of maintaining that everything is best when it is worst."
	"People don't have fortunes left them in that style now-a-days; men have to work, and women to marry for money. It's a dreadfully unjust world,"
	"Piety itself is no aim, but only a means whereby through purest inward peace we may attain to highest culture."
	"Sands make the mountain, moments make the year;"
	"There is so much trouble in coming into the world," said Lord Bolingbroke, "and so much more, as well as meanness, in going out of it,
	"they gave it me- for an un-birthday present." "I beg your pardon?" Alice said with a puzzled air. "I'm not offended," said Humpty Dumpty. {CHAPTER VI ^paragraph 50} "I mean, what is an un-birthday present?" "A present given when it isn't your birthday, of course." Alice considered a little. "I like birthday presents best," she said at last. "You don't know what you're talking about!" cried Humpty Dumpty. "How many days are there in a year?" "Three hundred and sixty-five," said Alice. ♥
	"We had much better be friends than fight and be eaten by vultures."
	"When I talked of your being altered by time, by the progress of years," said John Knightley, "I meant to imply the change of situation which time usually brings. I consider one as including the other. Time will generally lessen the interest of every attachment not within the daily circle- but that is not the change I had in view for you. As an old friend, you will allow me to hope, Miss Fairfax, that ten years hence you may have as many concentrated objects as I have."
	"Yes- that is what makes it amusing. Had they fixed on any other man, it would have been nothing; but his perfect indifference, and your pointed dislike, make it so delightfully absurd!
	"You don't have half such a hard time as I do,"
	"You have a voice, madam, I see: what you want is wits."
	"You know the reason mother proposed not having any presents this Christmas was because it is going to be a hard winter for every one;
	"Your birthday? But your birthday was in March!" "That wasn't my fault," laughed Anne. "If my parents had consulted me it would never have happened then. I should have chosen to be born in spring, of course. ♥
	'a were as good crack a fusty nut with no kernel.
	'Ban 'Ban, Ca-Caliban, Has a new master-Get a new man
	'Convey' the wise it call. 'Steal' foh! A fico for the phrase
	'Fie upon this quiet life! I want work
	'From the east to western Inde, No jewel is like Rosalinde
	'Gentlemen farmer'- a race worn out quite
	'Hell is empty, And all the devils are here.'
	'I am Sir Oracle, And when I ope my lips let no dog bark
	'I have no more to say, but linger still, And dare not set my seal upon this sheet, And yet I may as well the task fulfil, My misery can scarce be more complete:
	'I may command where I adore
	'I thank you for your voices. Thank you, Your most sweet voices
	'In time the savage bull doth bear the yoke
	'Man's love is of man's life a thing apart, 'T is woman's whole existence
	'My daughter! O my ducats! O my daughter! Fled with a Christian! O my Christian ducats! Justice! the law! My ducats and my daughter! A sealed bag, two sealed bags of ducats, Of double ducats, stol'n from me by my daughter
	'Shameful it is-ay, if the fact be known; Hateful it is-there is no hate in loving;
	'So so' is good, very good, very excellent good; and yet it is not; it is but so so
	'Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens
	'T is a sad thing, I cannot choose but say, And all the fault of that indecent sun, {CANTO_THE_FIRST ^line 560} Who cannot leave alone our helpless clay, But will keep baking, broiling, burning on, That howsoever people fast and pray, The flesh is frail, and so the soul undone: What men call gallantry, and gods adultery, Is much more common where the climate 's sultry.
	'T is pity learned virgins ever wed With persons of no sort of education,
	'T is strange the mind, that very fiery particle, Should let itself be snuff'd out by an article.
	'T is strange,- but true; for truth is always strange; Stranger than fiction
	'T is sweet to hear the watch-dog's honest bark Bay deep-mouth'd welcome as we draw near home;
	'The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool
	'The most Lamentable Comedy and most Cruel Death of Pyramus and Thisby
	'tis a common proof That lowliness is young ambition's ladder, Whereto the climber-upward turns his face; But when he once attains the upmost round, He then unto the ladder turns his back, Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees By which he did ascend
	'Tis a happy thing To be the father unto many sons.
	'Tis a naughty night to swim in
	'tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers
	'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on. Lady, you are the cruell'st she alive, If you will lead these graces to the grave, And leave the world no copy
	'tis better to be lowly born And range with humble livers in content Than to be perk'd up in a glist'ring grief And wear a golden sorrow
	'tis ever common That men are merriest when they are from home
	'Tis mad idolatry To make the service greater than the god
	'tis my vocation, Hal. 'Tis no sin for a man to labour in his vocation
	'Tis not enough to help the feeble up, But to support him after
	'tis not in the bond
	'Tis not my speeches that you do mislike, But 'tis my presence that doth trouble ye.
	'Tis not the balm, the sceptre, and the ball, The sword, the mace, the crown imperial, The intertissued robe of gold and pearl, The farced title running fore the king, The throne he sits on, nor the tide of pomp That beats upon the high shore of this world- No, not all these, thrice gorgeous ceremony, Not all these, laid in bed majestical, Can sleep so soundly as the wretched slave Who, with a body fill'd and vacant mind, Gets him to rest, cramm'd with distressful bread
	'Tis strange that death should sing. I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death
	'tis the strumpet's plague To beguile many and be beguiled by one
	'Tis well said again; And 'tis a kind of good deed to say well; And yet words are no deeds
	'Torches are made to light, jewels to wear, Dainties to taste, fresh beauty for the use, Herbs for their smell, and sappy plants to bear; Things growing to themselves are growth's abuse.
	'Twas a thief said the last kind word to Christ: Christ took the kindness and forgave the theft:
	'Twere all one That I should love a bright particular star And think to wed it, he is so above me
	'We have seen better days
	'what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive.'
	'Where's my serpent of old Nile
	'You will proceed in pleasure, and in pride, Beloved and loving many; all is o'er For me on earth, except some years to hide My shame and sorrow deep in my heart's core;
	. 'Tis more than you deserve; But since you teach me how to flatter you, Imagine I have said farewell already.
	1801- I have just returned from a visit to my landlord- the solitary neighbour that I shall be troubled with. This is certainly a beautiful country!
	A back-friend, a shoulder-clapper
	A breath thou art, Servile to all the skyey influences
	A calendar, a calendar! Look in the almanack; find out moonshine
	a castle called Doubting Castle, the owner whereof was Giant Despair
	A child of our grandmother Eve, a female; or, for thy more sweet understanding, a woman.
	A comfort of retirement lives in this.
	a Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a good boy
	a cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tiber in't
	A Daniel come to judgment! Yea, a Daniel
	A Daniel still say I, a second Daniel! I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word
	a deal of skimble-skamble stuff
	A deed without a name
	A falcon towering in her pride of place Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd
	A fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife
	a few books, a few actions, serve us as well as would all trades and all spectacles.
	A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines. With consistency a great soul has simply nothing to do.
	A forted residence 'gainst the tooth of time And razure of oblivion
	a foul fiend coming over the field to meet him; his name is Apollyon.
	A friend in power is a friend lost
	A friend is a person with whom I may be sincere. Before him, I may think aloud.
	A friend may well be reckoned the masterpiece of nature. ♣
	A friend should bear his friend's infirmities, But Brutus makes mine greater than they are
	A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself talk and will speak more in a minute than he will stand to in a month
	A good man's fortune may grow out at heels
	A good mouth-filling oath
	A good old man, sir; he will be talking. As they say, 'When the age is in, the wit is out
	a good sentence or a thing well said, is always in season
	a good sentence or verse remains fresh and memorable for a long time
	A goodly apple rotten at the heart. O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath
	A grievous burden was thy birth to me; Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy
	a harmless necessary cat
	A hit, a very palpable hit
	A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!
	A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it
	A joyful mother of two goodly sons
	a kind Of excellent dumb discourse
	A lady of a 'certain age,' which means Certainly aged
	A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment.
	a light wife doth make a heavy husband
	A lily prisoned in a gaol of snow,
	A little fire is quickly trodden out, Which, being suffer'd, rivers cannot quench.
	A little more than kin, and less than kind
	a little philosophy inclineth man's mind to atheism; but depth in philosophy bringeth men's minds about to religion.
	A little pot and soon hot
	A little still she strove, and much repented And whispering 'I will ne'er consent'- consented.
	A little touch of Harry in the night
	A load would sink a navy
	A maiden never bold, Of spirit so still and quiet that her motion Blush'd at herself
	a man can die but once; we owe God a death
	A man cannot be too careful in the choice of his enemies.
	A man may see how the world goes with no eyes. Look with thine ears. See how yond justice rails upon yond simple thief. Hark in thine ear. Change places and, handy-dandy, which is the justice, which is the thief
	a man of my kidney
	A man who knows the price of everything, and the value of nothing.
	a man whose blood Is very snow-broth, one who never feels The wanton stings and motions of the sense
	a merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal.
	a mockery king of snow
	A morsel for a monarch
	A most toad-spotted traitor.
	A pair of star-cross'd lovers
	A parlous boy!
	A peace above all earthly dignities, A still and quiet conscience
	A plague o' both your houses! They have made worms' meat of me
	A plague of all cowards
	A plague of all cowards, I say
	A plague of sighing and grief! It blows a man up like a bladder
	A plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another!
	a poor lone woman
	A poor, infirm, weak, and despis'd old man
	A pound of flesh
	a proper man, as one shall see in a summer's day; a most lovely gentleman-like man
	a purse of gold most resolutely snatch'd on Monday night and most dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning
	A rascal-yea-forsooth knave
	A regular hail of birds is beating down on my market.
	A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap, And mounch'd, and mounch'd, and mounch'd. "Give me," quoth I. "Aroint thee, witch!" the rump-fed ronyon cries
	A sceptre snatch'd with an unruly hand Must be boisterously maintain'd as gain'd, And he that stands upon a slipp'ry place Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up
	a sharp tongue is the only edged tool that grows keener with constant use.
	a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles
	A solitary shriek, the bubbling cry Of some strong swimmer in his agony.
	A still-soliciting eye
	a surgeon to old shoes
	A teacher affects eternity; he can never tell where his influence stops.
	a very ancient and fish-like smell
	A very beadle to a humorous sigh
	A very gentle beast, and of a good conscience
	a very stately palace before him, the name of which was Beautiful
	A very superficial, ignorant, unweighing fellow.
	a very valiant trencherman
	A villain may disguise himself, but he will not deceive the wise.
	A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen As you are toss'd with.
	A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen As you are toss'd with.
	a woman is a dish for the gods, if the devil dress her not
	A woman mov'd is like a fountain troubled- Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty
	a woman would run through fire and water for such a kind heart
	A woman's face with nature's own hand painted, Hast thou the master mistress of my passion, A woman's gentle heart but not acquainted With shifting change as is false women's fashion, An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling: Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth, A man in hue all hues in his controlling, Which steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth. And for a woman wert thou first created, Till nature as she wrought thee fell a-doting, And by addition me of thee defeated, By adding one thing to my purpose nothing. But since she pricked thee out for women's pleasure, Mine be thy love and thy love's use their treasure.
	A woman's will
	A WORD is dead When it is said, Some say. I say it just Begins to live That day.
	a wretch whose natural gifts were poor
	A young man married is a man that's marr'd
	accidents will occur in the best-regulated families ♥
	Adam was a gardener.
	adversity doth best discover virtue
	Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy
	Affection! thy intention stabs the centre. Thou dost make possible things not so held, Communicat'st with dreams
	Affliction may one day smile again; and till then, sit thee down, sorrow.
	Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety.
	Alas 'tis true, I have gone here and there, And made my self a motley to the view, Gored mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear, Made old offences of affections new. Most true it is, that I have looked on truth Askance and strangely: but by all above, {^line 1860} These blenches gave my heart another youth, And worse essays proved thee my best of love. Now all is done, have what shall have no end, Mine appetite I never more will grind On newer proof, to try an older friend, A god in love, to whom I am confined. Then give me welcome, next my heaven the best, Even to thy pure and most most loving breast.
	Alas poor Yorick!
	Alas why fearing of time's tyranny, Might I not then say 'Now I love you best,' When I was certain o'er incertainty, Crowning the present, doubting of the rest? Love is a babe, then might I not say so To give full growth to that which still doth grow.
	Alas, how love can trifle with itself! ‡
	Alas, poor women! make us but believe, Being compact of credit, that you love us;
	Albeit all human history attests That happiness for man- the hungry sinner!- Since Eve ate apples, much depends on dinner.
	All experience is an arch, to build upon.
	All hell shall stir for this ‡
	all his faults observed, Set in a notebook, learn'd and conn'd by rote
	all impediments in fancy's course Are motives of more fancy
	All inquiry into antiquity- all curiosity respecting, the pyramids, the excavated cities, Stonehenge, the Ohio Circles, Mexico, Memphis, is the desire to do away this wild, savage and preposterous There or Then, and introduce in its place the Here and the Now
	all lovers swear more performance than they are able, and yet reserve an ability that they never perform; vowing more than the perfection of ten, and discharging less than the tenth part of one
	All mankind love a lover.
	All my pretty ones? Did you say all? O hell-kite! All? What, all my pretty chickens and their dam At one fell swoop
	All orators are dumb when beauty pleadeth
	All places that the eye of heaven visits Are to a wise man ports and happy havens.
	All poetry is difficult to read, -The sense of it is, anyhow
	All that glisters (glitters) is not gold
	All that I have to say is to tell you that the lanthorn is the moon; I, the Man i' th' Moon; this thorn-bush, my thorn-bush; and this dog, my dog
	All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand
	All the world's a stage,
	all the yarn she spun in Ulysses' absence did but fill Ithaca full of moths
	All's Well that Ends Well. Still the fine's the crown. Whate'er the course, the end is the renown
	Almost all people descend to meet.
	always the dullness of the fool is the whetstone of the wits
	an angel! or, if not, An earthly paragon!
	An habitation giddy and unsure Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart
	an honest exceeding poor man
	An honest tale speeds best being plainly told. ♦
	An honorable murtherer, if you will, For nought did I in hate, but all in honor
	An I have not forgotten what the inside of a church is made of, I am a peppercorn, a brewer's horse
	an ill-favour'd thing, sir, but mine own ‡
	An image of the glorious sky. Thy fate and mine are not repose, And ere another evening close, Thou to thy tides shalt turn again, And I to seek the crowd of men.
	An institution is the lengthened shadow of one man
	An itching palm
	an old black ram Is tupping your white ewe
	An old man, broken with the storms of state, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye; Give him a little earth for charity
	an unlesson'd girl, unschool'd, unpractis'd; Happy in this, she is not yet so old But she may learn
	an upright judge, a learned judge
	And after April, when May follows, And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows!
	And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by, He call'd them untaught knaves, unmannerly, To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse Betwixt the wind and his nobility
	And be these juggling fiends no more believed That patter with us in a double sense, That keep the word of promise to our ear And break it to our hope
	And certainly it is the nature of extreme self-lovers, as they will set an house on fire, and it were but to roast their eggs
	And do as adversaries do in law- Strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends.
	And extreme fear can neither fight nor fly
	And give to dust that is a little gilt More laud than gilt o'er-dusted
	And he kept his birthday on the second shelf." "How long did he keep his birthday?" I asked. "I never can keep mine more than twenty-four hours." "Why, a birthday stays that long by itself!" cried Bruno. "Oo doosn't know how to keep birthdays! This Boy kept his a whole year!" ♥
	and He that doth the ravens feed, Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, Be comfort to my age
	And I must find that title in your tongue
	And if I laugh at any mortal thing, 'T is that I may not weep
	And if the boy have not a woman's gift To rain a shower of commanded tears, An onion will do well for such a shift
	And in such indexes, although small pricks To their subsequent volumes, there is seen The baby figure of the giant mas Of things to come
	and it is great To do that thing that ends all other deeds, Which shackles accidents and bolts up change
	And kiss me, Kate; we will be married a Sunday.
	and let the welkin roar
	And liberty plucks justice by the nose
	And men ne'er spend their fury on a child.
	And men sit down to that nourishment which is called supper.
	And money is like muck, not good except it be spread.
	And my ending is despair Unless I be reliev'd by prayer, Which pierces so that it assaults Mercy itself, and frees all faults
	And my large kingdom for a little grave, A little little grave, an obscure grave
	And my poor fool is hang'd! No, no, no life! Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more, Never, never, never, never, never! Pray you undo this button
	And now, if God, who has created you, on whom you are dependent for your lives and for all that ye have and are, doth grant unto you whatsoever ye ask that is right, in faith, believing that ye shall receive, O then, how ye ought to impart of the substance that ye have one to another.
	And of the Cannibals that each other eat, The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads Do grow beneath their shoulders
	And oftentimes excusing of a fault Doth make the fault the worse by th' excuse
	And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths, Win us with honest trifles, to betray's In deepest consequence
	And put himself upon his good behaviour
	And scorn to add a syllable untrue
	And sheath'd their swords for lack of argument
	And sleep in dull cold marble
	And smooth as monumental alabaster
	And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot; And thereby hangs a tale
	And sometimes we are devils to ourselves, When we will tempt the frailty of our powers, Presuming on their changeful potency
	And the imperial vot'ress passed on, In maiden meditation, fancy-free. Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell. It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound, And maidens call it Love-in-idleness
	and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch
	And the vile squealing of the wry-neck'd fife
	And then he drew a dial from his poke, And, looking on it with lack-lustre eye, Says very wisely, 'It is ten o'clock; Thus we may see,' quoth he, 'how the world wags
	And then it started, like a guilty thing Upon a fearful summons
	and then to breakfast with What appetite you have
	and there, at Venice, gave His body to that pleasant country's earth, And his pure soul unto his captain, Christ, Under whose colours he had fought so long
	And this word 'love,' which greybeards call divine
	And thou unfit for any place but hell.
	And thus I clothe my naked villainy With odd old ends stol'n forth of holy writ, And seem a saint when most I play the devil.
	and to be King Stands not within the prospect of belief
	And what is pride but the craving for undue exaltation?
	And what makes robbers bold but too much lenity?
	and when he's old, cashier'd
	And when the sun set where were they?
	And, after all, what is a lie? 'T is but The truth in masquerade
	And, when the lion fawns upon the lamb, The lamb will never cease to follow him.
	Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell
	Another lean unwash'd artificer
	Another time mine eye is my heart's guest
	Answer me in
	Antony, that revels long o' nights
	anyone can play accurately- but I play with wonderful expression.
	Apoth. My poverty but not my will consents. Rom. I pay thy poverty and not thy will
	Appearances are deceptive.
	Are you good men and true
	art thou lunatics?
	As a decrepit father takes delight, To see his active child do deeds of youth, So I, made lame by Fortune's dearest spite Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth.
	as a surfeit of the sweetest things The deepest loathing to the stomach brings
	As chaste as unsunn'd snow
	as cold as any stone
	As fat as butter
	As flies to wanton boys are we to th' gods. They kill us for their sport
	As good luck would have it
	As happy prologues to the swelling act Of the imperial theme
	as he was valiant, I honor him; but as he was ambitious, I slew him
	As heaven, it seemed, to kiss the turrets bowed.
	As I walked through the wilderness of this world
	As in a theatre the eyes of men After a well-grac'd actor leaves the stage Are idly bent on him that enters next, Thinking his prattle to be tedious
	As in revenge, have suck'd up from the sea Contagious fogs; which, falling in the land, Hath every pelting river made so proud {ACT2|SC1 ^line 100} That they have overborne their continents.
	as loathsome as a toad ‡
	As many farewells as be stars in heaven
	as merry as the day is long
	As proper men as ever trod upon neat's leather
	as quiet as a lamb
	As she would catch another Antony In her strong toil of grace
	As sweet and musical As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair. And when Love speaks, the voice of all the gods Make heaven drowsy with the harmony.
	As the body rolled to the ground Tarzan of the Apes placed his foot upon the neck of his lifelong enemy and, raising his eyes to the full moon, threw back his fierce young head and voiced the wild and terrible cry of his people.
	as the old hermit of Prague, that never saw pen and ink, very wittily said to niece of King Gorboduc 'That that is is'
	As to what we call the masses, and common men,- there are no common men. All men are at last of a size
	Asses are made to bear, and so are you.
	At best, the renewal of broken relations is a nervous matter
	At Christmas I no more desire a rose Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled shows; But like of each thing that in season grows
	At lovers' perjuries, They say Jove laughs
	Authority without wisdom is like a heavy axe without an edge, fitter to bruise than polish.
	Away, and mock the time with fairest show: False face must hide what the false heart doth know
	Away, you scullion! you rampallian! you fustilarian! I'll tickle your catastrophe
	Away, you scullion! you rampallian! you fustilarian! I'll tickle your catastrophe.
	Away, you three-inch fool!
	Ay, but to die, and go we know not where; To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods or to reside In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice; To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world
	Ay, every inch a king ♥
	Ay, for 'tis plain, this prelude of their song Foretells its close in tyranny and wrong.
	Ay, now am I in Arden; the more fool I; when I was at home I was in a better place; but travellers must be content
	Bait the hook well! This fish will bite
	Banish plump Jack, and banish all the world
	banners flout the sky
	base men being in love have then a nobility in their natures more than is native to them
	Bated like eagles having lately bath'd; Glittering in golden coats like images; As full of spirit as the month of May And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer
	Be absolute for death
	Be bloody, bold, and resolute: laugh to scorn The power of man, for none of woman born Shall harm Macbeth
	Be it known unto thee by these presence, even the presence of Lord Mortimer, that I am the besom that must sweep the court clean of such filth as thou art. Thou hast most traitorously corrupted the youth of the realm in erecting a grammar school; and whereas, before, our forefathers had no other books but the score and the tally, thou hast caused printing to be us'd, and, contrary to the King, his crown, and dignity, thou hast built a paper-mill.
	be not afraid of greatness. Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em ♠
	Be not lost So poorly in your thoughts.
	Be not thy tongue thy own shame's orator
	be so true to thyself, as thou be not false to others
	Be sure of it. Give me the ocular proof
	Be wise as thou art cruel, do not press My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain: Lest sorrow lend me words and words express, The manner of my pity-wanting pain.
	Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs, To make a hazard of new fortunes here.
	Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye, Not utt'red by base sale of chapmen's tongues
	Beauty itself doth of itself persuade The eyes of men without an orator
	Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold ♠
	Beauty's ensign yet Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks, And death's pale flag is not advanced there
	beauty, wit, High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service, Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all To envious and calumniating Time. One touch of nature makes the whole world kin ♦
	Becomes his captain's captain; and ambition, The soldier's virtue, rather makes choice of loss Than gain which darkens him.
	Before thy hour be ripe
	Beggars mounted run their horse to death.
	Being your slave what should I do but tend, Upon the hours, and times of your desire? I have no precious time at all to spend; Nor services to do till you require. Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour, Whilst I (my sovereign) watch the clock for you, Nor think the bitterness of absence sour, When you have bid your servant once adieu.
	Bell, book, and candle, shall not drive me back ♦
	Benedick the married man
	better a little chiding than a great deal of heartbreak ‡
	better three hours too soon than a minute too late
	Between the acting of a dreadful thing And the first motion, all the interim is Like a phantasma or a hideous dream; The genius and the mortal instruments Are then in council, and the state of man, Like to a little kingdom, suffers then The nature of an insurrection
	Between two hawks, which flies the higher pitch; Between two dogs, which hath the deeper mouth; Between two blades, which bears the better temper; Between two horses, which doth bear him best; Between two girls, which hath the merriest eye I have perhaps some shallow spirit of judgment; But in these nice sharp quillets of the law, Good faith, I am no wiser than a daw.
	Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took, And each doth good turns now unto the other, When that mine eye is famished for a look,
	Beware of losing the substance by grasping at the shadow.
	Beware the ides of March
	Beware when the great God lets loose a thinker on this planet. ♣
	Bid me discourse, I will enchant thine ear
	Bid them wash their faces And keep their teeth clean
	Black men are pearls in beauteous ladies' eyes.
	Bless thee, Bottom, bless thee! Thou art translated
	Blow, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude
	Blow, wind! Come, wrack! At least we'll die with harness on our back
	Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow! You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout Till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks!
	Bold words again! but they shall end in tears.
	borrowed plumes
	Both truth and beauty on my love depends
	Break any breaking here, and I'll break your knave's pate.
	Business, you know, may bring money, but friendship hardly ever does.
	But 'tis a common malady of power Tyrannical never to trust a friend.
	But all the story of the night told over, And all their minds transfigur'd so together, More witnesseth than fancy's images, And grows to something of great constancy, But howsoever strange and admirable
	But always the thought is prior to the fact; all the facts of history pre-exist in the mind as laws.
	But chiefly, the mould of a man's fortune is in his own hands.
	but for mine own part, it was Greek to me
	But for your words, they rob the Hybla bees, And leave them honeyless
	But I am constant as the northern star, Of whose true-fix'd and resting quality There is no fellow in the firmament
	But I have that within which passeth show- These but the trappings and the suits of woe
	But I will be A bridegroom in my death, and run into't As to a lover's bed
	But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve For daws to peck at
	But if it be a sin to covet honour, I am the most offending soul alive
	But if persons of quality and judgment concur, then it is (as the Scripture saith) nomen bonum instar unguenti fragrantis. It filleth all round about, and will not easily away. For the odors of ointments are more durable, than those of flowers.
	But if the while I think on thee (dear friend) All losses are restored, and sorrows end ‡
	But in the way of bargain, mark ye me, I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair
	But jealous souls will not be answer'd so; They are not ever jealous for the cause, But jealous for they are jealous. 'Tis a monster Begot upon itself, born on itself
	but let us cultivate our garden.
	But look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastward hill
	But love is blind, and lovers cannot see The pretty follies that themselves commit ‡
	But love, first learned in a lady's eyes, Lives not alone immured in the brain
	But man, proud man, Dress'd in a little brief authority, Most ignorant of what he's most assur'd, His glassy essence, like an angry ape, Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven As makes the angels weep
	But men are men; the best sometimes forget
	But mice and rats, and such small deer, Have been Tom's food for seven long year
	But my experience is that {SECOND_ACT ^line 140} as soon as people are old enough to know better, they don't know anything at all.
	But now I am cabin'd, cribb'd, confin'd, bound in To saucy doubts and fears
	But this denoted a foregone conclusion
	But thoughts the slave, of life, and life time's fool, And time, that takes survey of all the world, Must have a stop. O, I could prophesy, But that the earthy and cold hand of death Lies on my tongue
	But what did he see in the clear stream below? His own image; no longer a dark, gray bird, ugly and disagreeable to look at, but a graceful and beautiful swan. To be born in a duck's nest, in a farmyard, is of no consequence to a bird, if it is hatched from a swan's egg.
	But whate'er you are That in this desert inaccessible, Under the shade of melancholy boughs, Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time; If ever you have look'd on better days, If ever been where bells have knoll'd to church, If ever sat at any good man's feast, If ever from your eyelids wip'd a tear, And know what 'tis to pity and be pitied, Let gentleness my strong enforcement be
	But when I tell him he hates flatterers, He says he does, being then most flattered
	But wherefore do not you a mightier way Make war upon this bloody tyrant Time? And fortify your self in your decay With means more blessed than my barren rhyme? Now stand you on the top of happy hours, {^line 260} And many maiden gardens yet unset, With virtuous wish would bear you living flowers, Much liker than your painted counterfeit: So should the lines of life that life repair Which this (Time's pencil) or my pupil pen Neither in inward worth nor outward fair Can make you live your self in eyes of men. To give away your self, keeps your self still, And you must live drawn by your own sweet skill.
	But yesterday the word of Caesar might Have stood against the world. Now lies he there, And none so poor to do him reverence
	But yet I'll make assurance double sure, And take a bond of fate
	But yet the pity of it, Iago! O Iago, the pity of it, Iago!
	but, alas, to make me A fixed figure for the time of scorn To point his slow unmoving finger at
	But, in the gross and scope of my opinion, This bodes some strange eruption to our state
	But- Oh! ye lords of ladies intellectual, Inform us truly, have they not hen-peck'd you all?
	By earth! by snares! by network! by cages! I never heard of anything more cleverly conceived; and, if the other birds approve, I am going to build the city along with you
	By heaven, I do love; and it hath taught me to rhyme, and to be melancholy
	By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap
	by telling of it, Made such a sinner of his memory, To credit his own lie
	By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes. Open, locks, Whoever knocks
	By the sweet power of music. Therefore the poet Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and floods; Since nought so stockish, hard, and full of rage, But music for the time doth change his nature. The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull:as night, And his affections dark as Erebus. Let no such man be trusted
	By this leek, I will most horribly revenge- I eat and eat, I swear
	CAESAR [affectionately] No, my son Rufio, but to please me- to celebrate my birthday. RUFIO [contemptuously] Your birthday! You always have a birthday when there is a pretty girl to be flattered or an ambassador to be conciliated. We had seven of them in ten months last year. CAESAR [contritely] It is true, Rufio! I shall never break myself of these petty deceits. ♥
	Came there a certain lord, neat and trimly dress'd, Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reap'd Show'd 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
	Can you make no use of nothing, nuncle
	Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased
	Canst thou O cruel, say I love thee not
	Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye, And where care lodges sleep will never lie
	Celerity is never more admir'd Than by the negligent
	Certainly virtue is like precious odors, most fragrant when they are incensed, or crushed
	Certainly, it is heaven upon earth, to have a man's mind move in charity, rest in providence, and turn upon the poles of truth.
	Cervantes smiled Spain's chivalry away
	Chaos often breeds life, when order breeds habit
	character is a mingled web of good and evil feelings
	Charm ache with air and agony with words
	chaste as the icicle That's curdied by the frost from purest snow, And hangs on Dian's temple
	Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy
	Child Rowland to the dark tower came; His word was still Fie, foh, and fum! I smell the blood of a British man
	Christians have burnt each other, quite persuaded That all the Apostles would have done as they did.
	CHRISTMAS won't be Christmas without any presents
	clean starved for a look
	Cloud-kissing Ilion
	Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh.
	Cold indeed, and labour lost, Then farewell, heat, and welcome, frost.
	Come away, come away, death; And in sad cypress let me be laid; Fly away, fly away, breath, I am slain by a fair cruel ma
	Come not between the dragon and his wrath
	Come on, come on. You are pictures out of doors, Bells in your parlors, wildcats in your kitchens, Saints in your injuries, devils being offended, Players in your housewifery, and housewives in your beds
	Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them. Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true
	Come to the window, sweet is the night air! Only, from the long line of spray Where the sea meets the moon-blanch'd land, Listen! you hear the grating roar Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling, At their return, up the high strand. Begin, and cease, and then again begin, With tremulous cadence slow, and bring The eternal note of sadness in.
	Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands; Curtsied when you have and kiss'd, The wild waves whist, Foot it featly here and there
	Come what come may, Time and the hour runs through the roughest day
	Come, arise, from sleep awaking, come the fiery torches shaking, O Iacchus! O Iacchus! Morning Star that shinest nightly.
	Come, let's away to prison. We two alone will sing like birds i' th' cage. When thou dost ask me blessing, I'll kneel down And ask of thee forgiveness. So we'll live, And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh At gilded butterflies
	Come, seeling night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day, And with thy bloody and invisible hand Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale! Light thickens, and the crow Makes wing to the rooky wood
	Come, thou monarch of the vine, Plumpy Bacchus with pink eyne
	Come, you are a tedious fool.
	Come, you are a tedious fool.
	Comes at the last, and with a little pin Bores through his castle wall, and farewell, king
	commit The oldest sins the newest kind of ways
	Company, villanous company, hath been the spoil of me
	Condemn the fault and not the actor of it
	Confusion now hath made his masterpiece.
	Confusion now hath made his masterpiece. Most sacrilegious murther hath broke ope The Lord's anointed temple and stole thence The life o' the building
	Conscience is but a word that cowards use, Devis'd at first to keep the strong in awe.
	Consideration like an angel came And whipp'd th' offending Adam out of him
	constant you are, But yet a woman; and for secrecy, No lady closer, for I well believe Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know, And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate
	Conventionality is not morality. Self-righteousness is not religion. To attack the first is not to assail the last.
	Could I come near your beauty with my nails, I could set my ten commandments in your face.
	Cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear Seeing that death, a necessary end
	Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition: By that sin fell the angels
	Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war ♦
	cure the disease, and kill the patient
	CURIOUSER and curiouser!
	curse his better angel from his side, And fall to reprobation
	curse of marriage, That we can call these delicate creatures ours, And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad, And live upon the vapor of a dungeon, Than keep a corner in the thing I love For others' usesYet, 'tis the plague of great ones: Prerogatived are they less than the base; 'Tis destiny unshunnable, like death.
	Cursed be my tribe If I forgive him
	curses an Eve's daughters, of what complexion soever
	daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty ♦
	Death is too rude, too obvious a key To solve one single secret in a life's philosophy.
	Death, as the Psalmist saith, is certain to all; all shall die
	Death, death; O amiable lovely death
	Deeds, not words.
	Deeds, not words.
	Delays have dangerous ends
	Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least, Yet in these thoughts my self almost despising, Haply I think on thee
	Devise, wit; write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio.
	Diana's Foresters, Gentlemen of the Shade, Minions of the Moon
	Didst thou never hear That things ill got had ever bad success?
	Discontent is the want of self-reliance: it is infirmity of will.
	Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth In strange eruptions
	Dispense with trifles
	Do all men kill the things they do not love? SHYLOCK. Hates any man the thing he would not kill
	Do not count your chickens before they are hatched.
	do not give dalliance Too much the rein
	Do not swear at all; Or if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, Which is the god of my idolatry
	Do not waste your pity on a scamp.
	Do you not know I am a woman? When I think, I must speak
	Do you set down your name in the scroll of youth, that are written down old with all the characters of age? Have you not a moist eye, a dry hand, a yellow cheek, a white beard, a decreasing leg, an increasing belly? Is not your voice broken, your wind short, your chin double, your wit single, and every part about you blasted with antiquity? And will you yet call yourself young? Fie, fie, fie, Sir John!
	Does the answer lie somewhere upon the bosom of the broad Sahara, at the end of two tiny wires, hidden beneath a lost cairn? I wonder.
	Done to death by slanderous tongues
	Doomsday is near. Die all, die merrily
	Dost thou not see my baby at my breast That sucks the nurse asleep
	Double, double, toil and trouble; Fire burn and cauldron bubble
	Down on your knees, And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man's love; For I must tell you friendly in your ear
	Drink to me only with thine eyes
	Drunkenness is his best virtue
	DUKE. And what's her history? VIOLA. A blank, my lord. She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud, Feed on her damask cheek. She pin'd in thought; And with a green and yellow melancholy She sat like Patience on a monument, Smiling at grief
	Duncan is in his grave; After life's fitful fever he sleeps well. Treason has done his worst; nor steel, nor poison, Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing, Can touch him further
	DUNCAN. This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself Unto our gentle senses. BANQUO. This guest of summer, The temple-haunting martlet, does approve By his loved mansionry that the heaven's breath Smells wooingly here. No jutty, frieze, Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird Hath made his pendant bed and procreant cradle; Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed The air is delicate
	Dwell I but in the suburbs Of your good pleasure ♠
	dwindle, peak, and pine
	Each substance of a grief hath twenty shadows
	each time that one loves is the only time one has ever loved. ♠
	Earth! render back from out thy breast A remnant of our Spartan dead! Of the three hundred grant but three, To make a new Thermopylae!
	eat no onions nor garlic, for we are to utter sweet breath
	Eating the bitter bread of banishment
	Edgar- Enter Edgar. and pat! he comes, like the catastrophe of the old comedy. My cue is villainous melancholy, with a sigh like Tom o' Bedlam
	Education insisted on finding a moral foundation for robbery
	Egregiously an ass
	England, bound in with the triumphant sea, Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege Of wat'ry Neptune
	Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber
	Enlightened and emancipate, my Prince! Works fetter him no more! Cut then atwain With sword of wisdom, Son of Bharata! This doubt that binds thy heart-beats! cleave the bond Born of thy ignorance! Be bold and wise! Give thyself to the field with me! Arise!
	Epicurean cooks Sharpen with cloyless sauce his appetite
	Et tu, Brute
	Eternal summer gilds them yet, But all, except their sun, is set.
	Eternity was in our lips and eyes, Bliss in our brows' bent ♠
	Even as the flourish when true subjects bow To a new-crowned monarch; such it is As are those dulcet sounds in break of day That creep into the dreaming bridegroom's ear And summon him to marriage.
	Even good men like to make the public stare
	Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, So dull, so dread in look, so woe-begone, Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night And would have told him half his Troy was burnt
	Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor
	Every excess causes a defect; every defect an excess. Every sweet hath its sour; every evil its good.
	Every fat must stand upon its own bottom
	Every hero becomes a bore at last.
	Every man feels for himself, and knows how he is affected by particular qualities in the person he admires, the impressions of which are too minute and delicate to be substantiated in language
	Every man has his fault, and honesty is his
	Every man is wanted, and no man is wanted much.
	every one can master a grief but he that has it
	every one fault seeming monstrous till his fellow-fault came to match it
	every part about you blasted with antiquity
	Every subject's duty is the King's; but every subject's soul is his own
	EVERY substance is negatively electric to that which stands above it in the chemical tables, positively to that which stands below it.
	Every sweet hath its sour; every evil its good.
	every thing about you demonstrating a careless desolation
	Every true man's apparel fits your thief
	Every way makes my gain
	Every why hath a wherefore.
	Every word was once a poem.
	Everything in nature contains all the powers of nature. Everything is made of one hidden stuff
	Everywhere we were well received and forced to drink delicious wine out of golden or crystal flagons....
	Evil tendencies are early shown.
	Evil wishes, like fowls, come home to roost.
	Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul, But I do love thee! and when I love thee not, Chaos is come again
	Except I be by Silvia in the night, There is no music in the nightingale
	Exit, pursued by a bear
	Eye of newt and toe of frog, Wool of bat and tongue of dog
	Fair is foul, and foul is fair. Hover through the fog and filthy air
	Faith, thou hast some crotchets in thy head now
	False face must hide what the false heart doth know.
	Falstaff sweats to death And lards the lean earth as he walks along
	Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing, And like enough thou know'st thy estimate, The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing: My bonds in thee are all determinate. For how do I hold thee but by thy granting, And for that riches where is my deserving? The cause of this fair gift in me is wanting, And so my patent back again is swerving. Thy self thou gav'st, thy own worth then not knowing, Or me to whom thou gav'st it, else mistaking, So thy great gift upon misprision growing, Comes home again, on better judgement making. Thus have I had thee as a dream doth flatter, In sleep a king, but waking no such matter.
	Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms And bears his blushing honours thick upon him
	Farewell, fair cruelty
	Farewell, Monsieur Traveller; look you lisp and wear strange suits, disable all the benefits of your own country, be out of love with your nativity, and almost chide God for making you that countenance you are; or I will scarce think you have swam in a gondola
	faultless to a fault ♣
	FEAR death?- to feel the fog in my throat, The mist in my face,
	Fear no more the heat o' th' sun Nor the furious winter's rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages. Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust
	Feed where thou wilt, on mountain or in dale; Graze on my lips, and if those hills be dry, Stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie.
	Few love to hear the sins they love to act ‡
	Fie, fie upon her! There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip, Nay, her foot speaks; her wanton spirits look out At every joint and motive of her body
	Fie, my lord, fie! A soldier, and afeard
	Fight till the last gasp
	Finger of birth-strangled babe Ditch-deliver'd by a drab
	Fire answers fire, and through their paly flames Each battle sees the other's umber'd face; Steed threatens steed, in high and boastful neighs Piercing the night's dull ear; and from the tents The armourers accomplishing the knights, With busy hammers closing rivets up, Give dreadful note of preparation
	FIRST GUARD. What work is here! Charmian, is this well done? CHARMIAN. It is well done, and fitting for a princes Descended of so many royal kings
	FIRST WITCH. When shall we three meet again? In thunder, lightning, or in rain? SECOND WITCH. When the hurlyburly's done, When the battle's lost and won
	First, that a wife sat sundered from her lord, In widowed solitude, was utter woe- And woe, to hear how rumour's many tongues All boded evil- woe, when he who came And he who followed spake of ill on ill, Keening Lost, lost, all lost! thro' hall and bower.
	fish not with this melancholy bait For this fool gudgeon, this opinion
	Flat burglary as ever was committed
	fleet the time carelessly, as they did in the golden world
	Flout 'em and scout 'em, And scout 'em and flout 'em; Thought is free
	FLOW gently, sweet Afton! among thy green braes, Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise; My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream, Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.
	Fly about as a butterfly, indeed!
	Follies to-morrow: prattle shocks in church:
	Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun- it shines everywhere
	for a bird of the air shall carry the voice, and that which hath wings shall tell the matter
	for aught that I could ever read, Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth
	For blessed are the peacemakers on earth.
	For Brutus is an honorable man; So are they all, all honorable men
	For calling up that spot of joy. She had A heart- how shall I say?- too soon made glad. Too easily impressed: she liked whate'er She looked on, and her looks went everywhere. Sir, 'twas all one!
	For courage mounteth with occasion.
	For ever and a day
	For every cloud engenders not a storm.
	For every grain of wit there is a grain of folly.
	For every stoic was a stoic; but in Christendom where is the Christian?
	For everything you have missed, you have gained something else; and for everything you gain, you lose something.
	For gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite The man that mocks at it and sets it light
	For great feeders and heavy drinkers are alone esteemed as men by the barbarians.
	For greatest scandal waits on greatest state.
	For he being dead, with him is Beauty slain, And, Beauty dead, black Chaos comes again.
	For herein Fortune shows herself more kind Than is her custom. It is still her use To let the wretched man outlive his wealth, To view with hollow eye and wrinkled brow An age of poverty
	For honour travels in a strait so narrow - Where one but goes abreast
	For how can tyrants safely govern home Unless abroad they purchase great alliance?
	For I am nothing if not critical
	For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase
	For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, To stir men's blood. I only speak right on
	for if a person was not well-born, he could never achieve anything
	For it is not meters, but a meter-making argument, that makes a poem- a thought so passionate and alive that, like the spirit of a plant or an animal, it has an architecture of its own, and adorns nature with a new thing.
	for it so falls out That what we have we prize not to the worth Whiles we enjoy it, but being lack'd and lost, Why, then we rack the value, then we find The virtue that possession would not show us Whiles it was ours
	For many men that stumble at the threshold Are well foretold that danger lurks within.
	For my own part I think no innocent species of wit or pleasantry should be suppressed: and that a good pun may be admitted among the smaller excellencies of lively conversation.
	For my voice- I have lost it with hallooing and singing of anthems
	For never was a story of more woe Than this of Juliet and her Romeo
	For new-made honour doth forget men's names
	For nimble thought can jump both sea and land
	for several virtues Have I lik'd several women
	For shame deny that thou bear'st love to any Who for thy self art so unprovident.
	For slander lives upon succession, For ever hous'd where it gets possession.
	For stony limits cannot hold love out
	For such an injury would vex a very saint
	For suff'rance is the badge of all our tribe; You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog, And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine
	for the life to come, I sleep out the thought of it
	For the odors of ointments are more durable, than those of flowers.
	for the price of wisdom is above rubies ♣
	For there was never yet philosopher That could endure the toothache patiently
	For this relief much thanks. 'Tis bitter cold, And I am sick at heart
	For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings, That then I scorn to change my state with kings
	for to be wise and love Exceeds man's might; that dwells with gods above
	For violent fires soon burn out themselves; Small showers last long, but sudden storms are short
	For we may pity, though not pardon thee.
	For what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbors, and laugh at them in our turn?
	For what is wedlock forced but a hell, An age of discord and continual strife? Whereas the contrary bringeth bliss, And is a pattern of celestial peace.
	For where is author in the world Teaches such beauty as a woman's eye? Learning is but an adjunct to ourself
	For you and I are past our dancing days
	For you there's rosemary and rue; these keep Seeming and savour all the winter long
	For you, in my respect, are all the world. Then how can it be said I am alone When all the world is here to look on me ♦
	For, lords, to-morrow is a busy day
	Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all. Close up his eyes, and draw the curtain close; And let us all to meditation.
	Forever, and forever, farewell, Cassius! If we do meet again, why, we shall smile; If not, why then this parting was well made
	Fortune brings in some boats that are not steer'd
	Fortune is like the market; where many times if you can stay a little, the price will fall.
	Fortune, good night; smile once more, turn thy wheel
	forward violet thus did I chide, Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells, If not from my love's breath? The purple pride Which on thy soft check for complexion dwells, In my love's veins thou hast too grossly dyed
	Forward, I pray, since we have come so far, And be it moon, or sun, or what you please; And if you please to call it a rush-candle, Henceforth I vow it shall be so for me.
	Frailty, thy name is woman
	Frailty, thy name is woman
	framed to make women false
	Friend hast thou none; For thine own bowels which do call thee sire, The mere effusion of thy proper loins, Do curse the gout, serpigo, and the rheum, For ending thee no sooner. Thou hast nor youth nor age, But, as it were, an after-dinner's sleep, Dreaming on both; for all thy blessed youth Becomes as aged, and doth beg the alms Of palsied eld; and when thou art old and rich, Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty, To make thy riches pleasant
	Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears! I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them, The good is oft interred with their bones
	Friendship is constant in all other things Save in the office and affairs of love. Therefore all hearts in love use their own tongues; Let every eye negotiate for itself And trust no agent
	From fairest creatures we desire increase, That thereby beauty's rose might never die, But as the riper should by time decease, His tender heir might bear his memory:
	from the crown of his head to the sole of his foot, he is all mirth
	From the still-vex'd Bermoothes
	From women's eyes this doctrine I derive. They sparkle still the right Promethean fire; They are the books, the arts, the academes, That show, contain, and nourish, all the world
	From you have I been absent in the spring, When proud-pied April (dressed in all his trim) Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing: That heavy Saturn laughed and leaped with him. Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odour and in hue, Could make me any summer's story tell: Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew: Nor did I wonder at the lily's white, Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose, They were but sweet, but figures of delight: {^line 1660} Drawn after you, you pattern of all those. Yet seemed it winter still, and you away, As with your shadow I with these did play.
	full bravely hast thou flesh'd Thy maiden sword
	Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes; Nothing of him that doth fade But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange
	Full many a glorious morning have I seen, Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green; Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy: Anon permit the basest clouds to ride, With ugly rack on his celestial face, And from the forlorn world his visage hide Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace: Even so my sun one early morn did shine, With all triumphant splendour on my brow, But out alack, he was but one hour mine, The region cloud hath masked him from me now. Yet him for this, my love no whit disdaineth, Suns of the world may stain, when heaven's sun staineth.
	Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, Towards Phoebus' lodging
	Get thee glass eyes And, like a scurvy politician, seem To see the things thou dost not
	Get thee to a nunnery.
	Get very drunk; and when You wake with headache, you shall see what then.
	Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to sweeten my imagination
	Give me another horse. Bind up my wounds.
	Give me to drink mandragora. CHARMIAN. Why, madam? CLEOPATRA. That I might sleep out this great gap of time My Antony is away
	Give sorrow words. The grief that does not speak Whispers the o'erfraught heart, and bids it break ‡
	give them great meals of beef and iron and steel; they will eat like wolves and fight like devils
	Give this boy and girl of yours a few good books and you're starting them on the double-track, block-signal line to happiness.
	Give you a reason on compulsion? If reasons were as plentiful as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion, I
	Glamis hath murther'd sleep, and therefore Cawdor Shall sleep no more. Macbeth shall sleep no more
	Glamis thou art, and Cawdor, and shalt be What thou art promised. Yet do I fear thy nature. It is too full o' the milk of human kindness To catch the nearest way
	Glend. I can call spirits from the vasty deep. Hot. Why, so can I, or so can any man; But will they come when you do call for them
	Glory is like a circle in the water, Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself Till by broad spreading it disperse to nought.
	Go bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready, She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed. Exit Servant. Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight? Or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw. Thou marshal'st me the way that I was going, And such an instrument I was to use. Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses, Or else worth all the rest. I see thee still, And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood, Which was not so before. There's no such thing: It is the bloody business which informs Thus to mine eyes.
	Go forth, under the open sky, and list To Nature's teachings
	Go to, you are too shrewd.
	Go with me like good angels to my end; And as the long divorce of steel falls on me Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice, And lift my soul to heaven
	God Almighty planted a garden.
	God defend the right! ♣
	God give them wisdom that have it; and those that are fools, let them use their talents
	God made him, and therefore let him pass for a man
	God save the mark
	God stooping shows sufficient of His light For us i' the dark to rise by. And I rise.
	good counsellors lack no clients
	Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, Is the immediate jewel of their souls. Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing; 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands; But he that filches from me my good name Robs me of that which not enriches him And makes me poor indeed
	Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say good night till it be morrow ♦
	Good now, play one scene Of excellent dissembling, and let it look Like perfect honour
	good things, which belong to prosperity, are to be wished; but the good things, that belong to adversity, are to be admired.
	good wine is a good familiar creature, if it be well used ♠
	Government is a contrivance of human wisdom to provide for human wants. Men have a right that these wants should be provided for by this wisdom.
	Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle
	great Caesar fell. O, what a fall was there, my countrymen! Then I, and you, and all of us fell down, Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us
	Great geniuses have the shortest biographies.
	great with child; and longing, saving your honour's reverence, for stew'd prunes
	greatest vicissitude of things amongst men, is the vicissitude of sects and religions.
	greatness knows itself
	Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts,
	Grim-visag'd war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front
	GROW old along with me! The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was made: Our times are in his hand
	grow, like savages- as soldiers will, That nothing do but meditate on blood
	Had he not resembled My father as he slept, I had done't
	Had I but died an hour before this chance, {ACT2|SC3 ^line 120} I had lived a blessed time, for from this instant There's nothing serious in mortality. All is but toys; renown and grace is dead, The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees Is left this vault to brag of
	Had I but serv'd my God with half the zeal I serv'd my King, he would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies
	halcyon days
	Halloo your name to the reverberate hals, And make the babbling gossip of the air Cry out 'Olivia
	Hang him, dishonest varlet! we cannot misuse him enough.
	Hang out our banners on the outward walls; The cry is still, "They come!" Our castle's strength Will laugh a siege to scorn
	Hang there like fruit, my soul, Till the tree die
	Hang up philosophy! Unless philosophy can make a Juliet
	Hanging is too good for him, said Mr. Cruelty.
	Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.
	Happy is he who has ceased to live for pleasure and rests in the truth.
	Happy is the house that shelters a friend! ♣
	Happy is the man that findeth wisdom
	Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them
	Happy is the man who can make a living by his hobby!
	Happy is the man who can weather a day's travel at the price of silence, and that on a beaten track.
	happy is the man whom God correcteth
	Hark, hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,
	Harp not on that string
	Haste still pays haste, and leisure answers leisure; Like doth quit like, and Measure still for Measure
	hath his bellyful of fighting
	Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court
	Have more than thou showest, Speak less than thou knowest, Lend less than thou owest
	Have you not a moist eye, a dry hand, a yellow cheek, a white beard, a decreasing leg, an increasing belly
	Have you not made an universal shout That Tiber trembled underneath her banks To hear the replication of your sounds Made in her concave shores
	He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
	He capers, he dances, he has eyes of youth, he writes verses, he speaks holiday, he smells April and May
	He dies, and makes no sign
	he does it with a better grace, but I do it more natural
	he doth nothing but talk of his horse
	He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument.
	He draws now on the curious crime, the fine Felicity and flower of wickedness;
	He first involved his hero in a web of difficulties
	He gave his honours to the world again, His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace
	He has everything that an honest man should not have
	He hath a daily beauty in his life
	He hath a heart as sound as a bell; and his tongue is the clapper, for what his heart thinks, his tongue speaks
	He hath eaten me out of house and home
	He hath indeed better bett'red expectation than you must expect of me to tell you how
	He hath never fed of the dainties that are bred in a book; He hath not eat paper, as it were; he hath not drunk ink
	he hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is perfect gallows
	He hath out-villain'd villainy
	He hears merry tales and smiles not. I fear he will prove the weeping philosopher when he grows old, being so full of unmannerly sadness in his youth.
	he himself stuck not to call us the many-headed multitude
	he is come to open The purple testament of bleeding war
	He is great who is what he is from nature, and who never reminds us of others.
	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
	He is well paid that is well satisfied
	He jests at scars that never felt a wound. Enter Juliet above at a window. But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the East, and Juliet is the sun
	He knows it to be so, by his promises and messages; but if he wished to do it, it might be done.
	He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause.
	He loved it too much to question its value. ♥
	He loved solitude as little as others did
	He makes a July's day short as December
	He makes sweet music with th' enamell'd stones
	He reads much, He is a great observer, and he looks Quite through the deeds of men
	He receives comfort like cold porridge
	He rushed down towards the village calling out "Wolf, Wolf," and the villagers came out to meet him
	he shall have a noble memory
	He speaks plain cannon-fire, and smoke and bounce; He gives the bastinado with his tongue; Our ears are cudgell'd; not a word of his But buffets better than a fist of France. Zounds! I was never so bethump'd with words Since I first call'd my brother's father dad
	he that commands the seal is at great liberty, and may take as much, and as little, of the war as he will.
	He that dies pays all debts
	He that has and a little tiny wit- With hey, ho, the wind and the rain- Must make content with his fortunes fit, For the rain it raineth every day
	He that hath wife and children hath given hostages to fortune; for they are impediments to great enterprises, either of virtue or mischief.
	He that is giddy thinks the world turns round.
	He that is proud eats up himself. Pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle
	He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stol'n, Let him not know't and he's not robb'd at all
	he that wants money, means, and content, is without three good friends
	he that will not apply new remedies, must expect new evils; for time is the greatest innovator
	He that wrestles with us strengthens our nerves and sharpens our skill. Our antagonist is our helper.
	He uses his folly like a stalking-horse, and under the presentation of that he shoots his wit
	He uses his folly like a stalking-horse, and under the presentation of that he shoots his wit
	He wants nothing of a god but eternity, and a heaven to throne in
	He wants the natural touch
	He was a man Of an unbounded stomach
	He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one; Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and persuading; Lofty and sour to them that lov'd him not, But to those men that sought him sweet as summer
	He was a voracious reader, a strong critic, an art connoisseur in certain directions, a collector of books, but above all he was a man of the world by profession, and loved the contacts- perhaps the collisions- of society.
	He was as well formed and as beautiful as a little child could be, and had wings that reached from his shoulders to his feet.
	He was but as the cuckoo is in June, Heard, not regarded
	He was indeed the glass Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves
	He was not born to shame. Upon his brow shame is asham'd to sit
	He was wont to speak plain and to the purpose
	He wears his faith but as the fashion of his hat
	he wears the rose Of youth upon him
	He who the sword of heaven will bear Should be as holy as severe
	He who, from zone to zone, Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, In the long way that I must tread alone, Will lead my steps aright. ♦
	he will maintain his argument as well as any military man in the world
	He will to his Egyptian dish again
	He's a disease that must be cut away.
	he's a very devil
	He's mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf, a horse's health, a boy's love, or a whore's oath
	He's sudden, if a thing comes in his head.
	Hear him debate of commonwealth affairs, You would say it hath been all in all his study
	Hear you this Triton of the minnows? Mark you His absolute 'shall'
	Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot That it do singe yourself
	Heaven is above all yet: there sits a Judge That no king can corrupt
	Heaven may be won, not by the sword, not by human wisdom, but by Faith, Love, and Good Works
	Heaven take my soul, and England keep my bones!
	Heavenly Rosalind
	Hector is dead; there is no more to say
	Hence, horrible shadow! Unreal mockery, hence
	Hence, the less government we have the better- the fewer laws, and the less confided power.
	Her stature tall- I hate a dumpy woman.
	Her voice was ever soft, Gentle, and low- an excellent thing in woman
	Here are a few of the unpleasant'st words That ever blotted paper
	Here comes a pair of very strange beasts which in all tongues are call'd fools
	here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling
	Here dies the dusky torch of Mortimer, Chok'd with ambition of the meaner sort
	Here is my journey's end, here is my butt And very sea-mark of my utmost sail
	here will be an old abusing of God's patience and the King's English
	Here's flow'rs for you: Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram; The marigold, that goes to bed wi' th' sun, And with him rises weeping; these are flow'rs Of middle summer, and I think they are given To men of middle age
	Here's my hand. MIRANDA. And mine, with my heart in't
	Here's that which is too weak to be a sinner, honest water, which ne'er left man i' th' mire
	Hereafter, in a better world than this, I shall desire more love and knowledge of you
	Herein lives wisdom, beauty, and increase, Without this folly, age, and cold decay, If all were minded so, the times should cease, And threescore year would make the world away:
	Heroism feels and never reasons, and therefore is always right
	hills whose heads touch heaven
	his cares are now all ended
	his face be the worst thing about him
	his intellect is not replenished
	His legs bestrid the ocean; his rear'd arm Crested the world. His voice was propertied As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends; But when he meant to quail and shake the orb, He was as rattling thunder. For his bounty, There was no winter in't; an autumn 'twas That grew the more by reaping. His delights Were dolphin-like: they show'd his back above The element they liv'd in. In his livery Walk'd crowns and crownets; realms and islands were As plates dropp'd from his pocket
	His life was gentle, and the elements So mix'd in him that Nature might stand up And say to all the world, "This was a man!"
	His nature is too noble for the world: He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, Or Jove for's power to thunder. His heart's his mouth; What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent
	His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in, two bushels of chaff: you shall seek all day ere you find them, and when you have them they are not worth the search
	Histories make men wise; poets witty; the mathematics subtile; natural philosophy deep; moral grave; logic and rhetoric able to contend.
	Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.
	honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on? How then? Can honor 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 that word honour? Air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? He that died a Wednesday.
	Horribly stuff'd with epithets of war
	How all the other passions fleet to air, As doubtful thoughts, and rash-embrac'd despair, And shudd'ring fear, and green-ey'd jealousy
	how apt the poor are to be proud
	How cam'st thou to be the siege of this moon-calf
	How can my muse want subject to invent While thou dost breathe that pour'st into my verse, Thine own sweet argument, too excellent, For every vulgar paper to rehearse?
	How far I toil, still farther off from thee. I tell the day to please him thou art bright, And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven: So flatter I the swart-complexioned night, When sparkling stars twire not thou gild'st the even. But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer, And night doth nightly make grief's length seem stronger
	How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world
	how foul and loathsome is thine image!
	How hard it is for women to keep counsel
	How heavy do I journey on the way, When what I seek (my weary travel's end) Doth teach that case and that repose to say 'Thus far the miles are measured from thy friend.' The beast that bears me, tired with my woe, Plods dully on, to bear that weight in me, As if by some instinct the wretch did know {^line 840} His rider loved not speed being made from thee: The bloody spur cannot provoke him on, That sometimes anger thrusts into his hide, Which heavily he answers with a groan, More sharp to me than spurring to his side, For that same groan doth put this in my mind, My grief lies onward and my joy behind.
	How like a fawning publican he looks! I hate him for he is a Christian
	How like a winter hath my absence been From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year! What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen! What old December's bareness everywhere! And yet this time removed was summer's time, The teeming autumn big with rich increase, Bearing the wanton burden of the prime, Like widowed wombs after their lords' decease: {^line 1640} Yet this abundant issue seemed to me But hope of orphans, and unfathered fruit, For summer and his pleasures wait on thee, And thou away, the very birds are mute. Or if they sing, 'tis with so dull a cheer, That leaves look pale, dreading the winter's near. ♦
	How long a time lies in one little word
	How many ages hence Shall this our lofty scene be acted over In states unborn and accents yet unknown
	How many things by season season'd are To their right praise and true perfection
	How much better is it to weep at joy than to joy at weeping
	How much more elder art thou than thy looks
	How now, woolsack? What mutter you?
	How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags
	How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds Make deeds ill done!
	How oft when men are at the point of death Have they been merry
	How oft when thou, my music, music play'st, Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds {^line 2160} With thy sweet fingers when thou gently sway'st The wiry concord that mine ear confounds, Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap, To kiss the tender inward of thy hand, Whilst my poor lips which should that harvest reap, At the wood's boldness by thee blushing stand. To be so tickled they would change their state And situation with those dancing chips, O'er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait, Making dead wood more blest than living lips, Since saucy jacks so happy are in this, Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.
	How poor are they that have not patience! What wound did ever heal but by degrees
	How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is To have a thankless child
	How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, Like softest music to attending ears
	How sour sweet music is When time is broke and no proportion kept! So is it in the music of men's lives
	How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here will we sit and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears; soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony.
	How use doth breed a habit in a man!
	Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stone. Had I your tongues and eyes, I'ld use them so That heaven's vault should crack. She's gone for ever
	Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night!
	Husband, I come.
	Hysterica passio! Down, thou climbing sorrow! Thy element's below
	I 'gin to be aweary of the sun And wish the estate o' the world were now undone
	I 've stood upon Achilles' tomb, And heard Troy doubted; time will doubt of Rome.
	I am a feather for each wind that blows
	I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions
	I am a kind of burr; I shall stick
	I am a man More sinn'd against than sinning
	I am a man whom Fortune hath cruelly scratch'd
	I am a scribbled form drawn with a pen
	I am a true labourer: I earn that I eat, get that I wear; owe no man hate, envy no man's happiness; glad of other men's good, content with my harm
	I am a very foolish fond old man, Fourscore and upward, not an hour more nor less; And, to deal plainly, I fear I am not in my perfect mind
	I am all the daughters of my father's house, And all the brothers too
	I am almost out at heels
	I am amaz'd, methinks, and lose my way Among the thorns and dangers of this world
	I am angry nearly every day of my life, Jo; but I have learned not to show it; and I still hope to learn not to feel it, though it may take me another forty years to do so."
	I am as melancholy as a gib-cat or a lugg'd bear
	I am as poor as Job, my lord, but not so patient
	I am declined Into the vale of years
	I am dying, Egypt, dying; only I here importune death awhile, until Of many thousand kisses the poor last I lay upon thy lips
	I am falser than vows made in wine
	I am giddy; expectation whirls me round. Th' imaginary relish is so sweet That it enchants my sense
	I am great eater of beef, and I believe that does harm to my wit
	I am ignorance itself in this!
	I am in blood Stepp'd in so far that, should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o'er
	I am Misanthropos, and hate mankind
	I am more an antique Roman than a Dane
	I am never merry when I hear sweet music
	I am not in the giving vein to-day.
	I am not in the roll of common men
	I am not merry, but I do beguile The thing I am by seeming otherwise
	I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men
	I am not what I am.
	I am one, my liege, Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world Have so incensed that I am reckless what I do to spite the world
	I am proof against their enmity.
	I am slow of study
	I am sure care's an enemy to life
	I am Tarzan of the Apes.
	I am Thane of Cawdor. If good, why do I yield to that suggestion Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, Against the use of nature? Present fears Are less than horrible imaginings
	I am that merry wanderer of the night. I jest to Oberon, and make him smile When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile, Neighing in likeness of a filly foal; And sometime lurk I in a gossip's bowl In very likeness of a roasted crab
	I am tied to th' stake, and I must stand the course
	I bear a charmed life ♠
	I call the gods to witness
	I can get no remedy against this consumption of the purse; borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, but the disease is incurable
	I can soar into the clouds, whereas you are confined to the earth like any dunghill cock."
	I can suck melancholy out of a song, as a weasel sucks eggs
	I can't be friends with a man who blows hot and cold with the same breath.
	I cannot tell what the dickens his name is
	I choose my friends for their good looks, my acquaintances for their good characters, and my enemies for their good intellects. A man cannot be too careful in the choice of his enemies.
	I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts. I am no orator, as Brutus is; But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man
	I come to wive it wealthily in Padua
	I could be well content To entertain the lag-end of my life With quiet hours
	I could brain him with his lady's fan
	I could have better spar'd a better man
	I could not endure a husband with a beard on his face. I had rather lie in the woollen
	I count myself in nothing else so happy As in a soul rememb'ring my good friends ♣
	I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more is none
	I do desire we may be better strangers
	I do know of these That therefore only are reputed wise For saying nothing
	I do not ask you much; I beg cold comfort
	I do not love thee with mine eyes
	I do perceive here a divided duty
	I do then with my friends as I do with my books. I would have them where I can find them, but I seldom use them.
	I don't pretend that I quite understand {CANTO_THE_FOURTH ^line 40} My own meaning when I would be very fine
	I dote on his very absence
	I drink to the general joy o' the whole table
	I fear he will prove the weeping philosopher when he grows old, being so full of unmannerly sadness in his youth
	I found you as a morsel cold upon Dead Caesar's trencher
	I had been happy if the general camp, Pioners and all, had tasted her sweet body, So I had nothing known. O, now forever Farewell the tranquil mind! Farewell content! Farewell the plumed troop and the big wars That make ambition virtue! O, farewell, Farewell the neighing steed and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife, The royal banner, and all quality, Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war! And O you mortal engines, whose rude throats The immortal Jove's dread clamors counterfeit, Farewell! Othello's occupation's gone
	I had lied in my throat if I had said so.
	I had most need of blessing, and "Amen" Stuck in my throat
	I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman
	I had rather be a kitten and cry mew Than one of these same metre ballet-mongers
	I had rather believe all the fables in the Legend, and the Talmud, and the Alcoran, than that this universal frame is without a mind.
	I had rather have a fool to make me merry than experience to make me sad
	I had rather than forty shillings I had my Book of Songs and Sonnets here
	I hate ingratitude more in a man Than lying, vainness, babbling drunkenness, Or any taint of vice whose strong corruption Inhabits our frail blood
	I hate people who are not serious about meals. It is so shallow of them.
	I have a daughter- Would any of the stock of Barrabas Had been her husband, rather than a Christian
	I have a good eye, uncle; I can see a church by daylight
	I have a kind of alacrity in sinking
	I have a reasonable good ear in music. Let's have the tongs and the bones
	I have a way to will their loves again;
	I have an exposition of sleep come upon me
	I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle.
	I have been told that my philosophy is unsocial, and, that in public discourses, my reverence for the intellect makes me unjustly cold to the personal relations.
	I have bought Golden opinions from all sorts of people
	I have full cause of weeping, but this heart Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws Or ere I'll weep. O fool, I shall go mad
	I have given suck and know How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me- I would, while it was smiling in my face, Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums And dash'd the brains out had I so sworn as you Have done to this
	I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was
	I have had my labour for my travail
	I have Immortal longings in me
	I have lived long enough. My way of life Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf, And that which should accompany old age, As honor, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have; but in their stead, Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honor, breath, Which the poor heart would fain deny and dare not
	I have more flesh than another man, and therefore more frailty
	I have no expectation that any man will read history aright, who thinks that what was done in a remote age, by men whose names have resounded far, has any deeper sense than what he is doing to-day.
	I have no other but a woman's reason: I think him so, because I think him so.
	I have not kept my square; but that to come Shall all be done by th' rule
	I have not slept one wink
	I have often observed that in married households the champagne is rarely of a first-rate brand.
	I have pepper'd two of them. Two I am sure I have paid, two rogues in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Hal- if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse
	I have seen better faces in my time Than stands on any shoulder that I see Before me at this instant
	I have set my life upon a cast And I Will stand the hazard of the die. I think there be six Richmonds in the field
	I have touch'd 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
	I have true-hearted friends, Not mutinous in peace, yet bold in war;
	I have very poor and unhappy brains for drinking
	I heard a voice cry, "Sleep no more! Macbeth does murther sleep" -the innocent sleep, Sleep that knits up the ravel'd sleave of care, The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast
	I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano- A stage, where every man must play a part, And mine a sad one
	I hold you as a thing enskied and sainted
	I humbly do beseech you of your pardon For too much loving you
	I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows, Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine;
	I know a trick worth two of that
	I know the disciplines of war
	I know thee not, old man. Fall to thy prayers. How ill white hairs become a fool and jester
	I know you all, and will awhile uphold The unyok'd humour of your idleness
	I like not fair terms and a villain's mind
	I like the silent church before the service begins, better than any preaching.
	I liked it too. I sometimes think that I those mutes preferred To all your chatterers now-a-days.
	I lingered round them, under that benign sky; watched the moths fluttering among the heath and harebells, listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass, and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth.
	I looked on her with an anguish of wonder and love.
	I love a ballad in print a-life, for then we are sure they are true
	I love long life better than figs
	I loved not yet, yet I loved to love, and out of a deep-seated want, I hated myself for wanting not.
	I may justly say with the hook-nos'd fellow of Rome-I came, saw, and overcame
	I met a fool i' th' forest, A motley foo
	I moralize two meanings in one word.
	I must be cruel, only to be kind
	I must be cruel, only to be kind ‡
	I must become a borrower of the night For a dark hour or twain
	I must dance bare-foot on her wedding-day, And for your love to her lead apes in hell.
	I must go seek some dewdrops here, And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear
	I must have liberty Withal, as large a charter as the wind, To blow on whom I please
	I must speak in passion, and I will do it in King Cambyses' vein
	I never heard So musical a discord, such sweet thunder
	I never knew so young a body with so old a head ♦
	I never knew so young a body with so old a head.
	I never saw that you did painting need, And therefore to your fair no painting set, I found (or thought I found) you did exceed, That barren tender of a poet's debt: And therefore have I slept in your report, That you your self being extant well might show, {^line 1400} How far a modern quill doth come too short, Speaking of worth, what worth in you doth grow.
	I only say suppose this supposition
	I pray thee hear me speak.
	I remember him well, and I remember him worthy of thy praise.
	I saw a man clothed with rags, standing in a certain place, with his face from his own house, a book in his hand, and a great burden upon his back.
	I saw young Harry with his beaver on
	I say the gentleman had drunk himself out of his five sentences
	I say there is no darkness but ignorance; in which thou art more puzzled than the Egyptians in their fog
	I see thy glory like a shooting star Fall to the base earth from the firmament
	I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game's afoot: Follow your spirit; and upon this charge Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George
	I see, lady, the gentleman is not in your books
	I see. In this way the stranger will be condemned even before he appears.
	I shall laugh myself to death
	I shall ne'er be ware of mine own wit till I break my shins against it
	I sought what I might love, in love with loving
	I swear again I would not be a queen For all the world.
	I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness
	I thank you from my heart.
	I think we do know the sweet Roman hand
	I thought upon one pair of English legs Did march three Frenchmen
	I took thee for thy better.
	I understand a fury in your words, But not the words
	I understand thy kisses, and thou mine, And that's a feeling disputation
	I WANDERED lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
	I want that glib and oily art To speak and purpose not
	I was ever a fighter, so- one fight more, The best and the last!
	I was not born under a rhyming planet
	I was seeking for a fool when I found you.
	I wasted time, and now doth time waste me; For now hath time made me his numb'ring clock: My thoughts are minutes
	I wear not My dagger in my mouth
	I were better to be eaten to death with a rust than to be scoured to nothing with perpetual motion
	I will aggravate my voice so, that I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove; I will roar you an 'twere any nightingale
	I will be correspondent to command, And do my spriting gently
	I will be the pattern of all patience
	I will instruct my sorrows to be proud, For grief is proud, and makes his owner stoop
	I will make a Star Chamber matter of it
	I will make it felony to drink small beer.
	I will make thee think thy swan a crow
	I will not jump with common spirits And rank me with the barbarous multitudes
	I will talk of things heavenly, or things earthly; things moral, or things evangelical; things sacred, or things profane; things past, or things to come; things foreign, or things at home; things more essential, or things circumstantial provided that all be done to our profit.
	I will tell you my drift ♣
	I will to Egypt; And though I make this marriage for my peace, I' th' East my pleasure lies
	I wish you joy o' th' worm
	I wonder men dare trust themselves with men
	I wouid give all my fame for a pot of ale and safety
	I would 'twere bedtime, Hal, and all well
	I would applaud thee to the very echo, That should applaud again
	I would fain die dry death
	I would have thee gone- And yet no farther than a wanton's bird, That lets it hop a little from her hand, Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves, And with a silk thread plucks it back again, So loving-jealous of his liberty
	I would not have given it for a wilderness of monkeys
	I would not have such a heart in my bosom for the dignity of the whole body.
	I would not lose the dog for twenty pound.
	I would to God thou and I knew where a commodity of good names were to be bought
	I' th' commonwealth I would by contraries Execute all things; for no kind of traffic Would I admit; no name of magistrate; Letters should not be known; riches, poverty, And use of service, none; contract, succession, Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none; No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil; No occupation; all men idle, all; And women too, but innocent and pure No sovereignty
	I'll break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, And deeper than did ever plummet sound I'll drown my book
	I'll give my jewels for a set of beads, My gorgeous palace for a hermitage, My gay apparel for an almsman's gown
	I'll not budge an inch ‡
	I'll note you in my book of memory ♣
	I'll pray a thousand prayers for thy death
	I'll prove more true Than those that have more cunning to be strange
	I'll purge, and leave sack, and live cleanly
	I'll put a girdle round about the earth In forty minutes
	I'll queen it no inch farther, But milk my ewes and weep
	I'll seal to such a bond, And say there is much kindness in the Jew
	I'll speak in a monstrous little voice ♣
	I'll starve ere I'll rob a foot further
	I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter, When you are waspish
	I'll warrant him heart-whole
	I'm not afraid of storms, for I'm learning how to sail my ship.
	IAGO. To suckle fools and chronicle small beer. DESDEMONA. O most lame and impotent conclusion
	If a crow help us in, sirrah, we'll pluck a crow together.
	If a man be gracious and courteous to strangers, it shows he is a citizen of the world, and that his heart is no island, cut off from other lands, but a continent, that joins to them.
	If any, speak, for him have I offended. I pause for a reply
	If chance will have me King, why, chance may crown me Without my stir
	If ever thou shalt love, In the sweet pangs of it remember me; For such as I am all true lovers are