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There Are A Sort Of Men, Whose Visages Do Cream And Mantle, Like A Standing Pond; And Do A Willful Stillness Entertain, With Purpose To Be Dressed In An Opinion Of Wisdom, Gravity Profound Conceit; As Who Should Say, I Am Sir Oracle, And When I Ope My Lips, Let No Dog Bark!

-William Shakespeare

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There Are A Sort

William Shakespeare

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There Are A Sort Of Men, Whose Visages Do Cream And Mantle, Like A Standing Pond; And Do A Willful Stillness Entertain, With Purpose To Be Dressed In An Opinion Of Wisdom, Gravity Profound Conceit; As Who Should Say, I Am Sir Oracle, And When I Ope My Lips, Let No Dog Bark!

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A Kind Of Excellent Dumb Discourse.

By-and-by Is Easily Said.

Your Worm Is Your Only Emperor For Diet; We Fat All Creatures Else To Fat Us, And We Fat Ourselves For Maggots.

Many That Are Not Mad Have, Sure, More Lack Of Reason.

I Must Be Cruel, Only To Be Kind.

Literature Is A Comprehensive Essence Of The Intellectual Life Of A Nation.

I Cannot Tell What You And Other Men Think Of This Life; But, For My Single Self, I Had As Lief Not Be As Live To Be In Awe Of Such A Thing As I Myself.

They Love Least That Let Men Know Their Loves.

Or Art Thou But / A Dagger Of The Mind, A False Creation, / Proceeding From The Heat-oppressed Brain?

It Is Not Vain Glory For A Man And His Glass To Confer In His Own Chamber.

Thou Weigh'st Thy Words Before Thou Givest Them Breath.

My Joy Is Death- Death, At Whose Name I Oft Have Been Afeard, Because I Wish'd This World's Eternity.

I Have Neither The Scholar's Melancholy, Which Is Emulation; Nor The Musician's, Which Is Fantastical; Nor The Courtier's, Which Is Proud; Not The Soldier's Which Is Ambitious; Nor The Lawyer's, Which Is Politic; Nor The Lady's, Which Is Nice; Nor The Lover's, Which Is All These: But It Is A Melancholy Of Mine Own, Compounded Of Many Simples, Extracted From Many Objects, And Indeed The Sundry Contemplation Of My Travels, Which, By Often Rumination, Wraps Me In A Most Humorous Sadness.

As In A Theatre, The Eyes Of Men, After A Well-graced Actor Leaves The Stage, Are Idly Bent On Him That Enters Next.

Alack, There Lies More Peril In Thine Eye Than Twenty Of Their Swords: Look Thou But Sweet, And I Am Proof Against Their Enmity.

Love Is Merely A Madness, And, I Tell You, Deserves As Well A Dark House And A Whip As Madmen Do.

Neither My Place, Nor Aught I Heard Of Business, Hath Raised Me From My Bed; Nor Doth The General Care Take Hold On Me; For My Particular Grief Is Of So Floodgate And O'erbearing Nature That It Engluts And Swallows Other Sorrows, And It Is Still Itself.

Thou Hast Her, France; Let Her Be Thine, For We Have No Such Daughter, Nor Shall Ever See That Face Of Hers Again. Therefore Be Gone Without Our Grace, Our Love, Our Benison.

You Have But Mistook Me All The While... I Live By Bread Like You, Taste Grief, Feel Want, Need Friends. Conditioned Thus How Can You Call Me King?

Winter's Not Gone Yet, If The Wild Geese Fly That Way.

She Never Told Her Love, But Let Concealment, Like A Worm 'i Th' Bud, Feed On Her Damask Cheek. She Pinned In Thought; And, With A Green And Yellow Melancholy, She Sat Like Patience On A Monument, Smiling At Grief. Was Not This Love Indeed? We Men May Say More, Swear More; But Indeed Our Shows Are More Than Will; For We Still Prove Much In Our Vows But Little In Our Love.

I Am Indeed, Sir, A Surgeon To Old Shoes; When They Are In Great Danger I Recover Them.

Too Much Of Water Hast Thou, Poor Ophelia, And Therefore I Forbid My Tears: But Yet It Is Our Trick; Nature Her Custom Holds, Let Shame Say What It Will: When These Are Gone, The Woman Will Be Out. — Adieu, My Lord! I Have A Speech Of Fire, That Fain Would Blaze, But That This Folly Drowns It.

Gloucester, We Have Done Deeds Of Charity, Made Peace Of Enmity, Fair Love Of Hate, Between These Swelling Wrong-incensed Peers.

It Is A Heretic That Makes The Fire, Not She Which Burns In It.

Positive Atheism

Speak On, But Be Not Over-tedious.

Thyself Shall See The Act; For, As Thou Urgest Justice, Be Assured Thou Shalt Have Justice, More Than Thou Desir'st.

O' Thinkest Thou We Shall Ever Meet Again? I Doubt It Not; And All These Woes Shall Serve For Sweet Discourses In Our Times To Come.

I Think The King Is But A Man As I Am: The Violet Smells To Him As It Doth To Me.

The Prince Of Darkness Is A Gentleman!

Light And Lust Are Deadly Enemies.

Orpheus With His Lute Made Trees, And The Mountain Tops That Freeze, Bow Themselves, When He Did Sing; To His Music, Plants And Flowers Ever Sprung; As Sun And Showers There Had Made A Lasting Spring. Every Thing That Heard Him Play, Even The Billows Of The Sea, Hung Their Heads, And Then Lay By. In Sweet Music Is Such Art, Killing Care And Grief Of Heart Fall Asleep, Or Hearing, Die.

A Tardiness In Nature, Which Often Leaves The History Unspoke, That It Intends To Do.

Thy Food Is Such As Hath Been Belch'd On By Infected Lungs.

Nor Age So Eat Up My Invention.

Well, God's Above All; And There Be Souls Must Be Saved, And There Be Souls Must Not Be Saved.

When The Sun Shines Let Foolish Gnats Make Sport, But Creep In Crannies When He Hides His Beams.

This Wimpled, Whining, Purblind, Wayward Boy, This Senior Junior, Giant Dwarf...cupid.

... The Spring, The Summer, The Chilling Autumn, Angry Winter, Change Their Wonted Liveries; And The Mazed World By Their Increase, Now Knows Not Which Is Which.

Remuneration! O! That's The Latin Word For Three Farthings

Love Asks Me No Questions, And Gives Me Endless Support.

Good Hay, Sweet Hay, Hath No Fellow.

Young Men's Love Then Lies Not Truly In Their Hearts, But In Their Eyes.

Come, Swear It, Damn Thyself, Lest, Being Like One Of Heaven, The Devils Themselves Should Fear To Seize Thee; Therefore Be Double-damned, Swear,--thou Art Honest.

Forbear To Judge, For We Are Sinners All.

Love, Whose Month Is Ever May, Spied A Blossom Passing Fair, Playing In The Wanton Air: Through The Velvet Leaves The Wind, All Unseen Can Passage Find; That The Lover, Sick To Death, Wish'd Himself The Heaven's Breath.

He That Is Robbed, Not Wanting What Is Stolen, Him Not Know T, And He's Not Robbed At All.

Crime And Criminals

O, This Life Is Nobler Than Attending For A Check, Richer Than Doing Nothing For A Robe, Prouder Than Rustling In Unpaid-for Silk: Such Pain The Cap Of Him That Makes Him Fine Yet Keeps His Book Uncrossed.

But Miserable Most, To Love Unloved? This You Should Pity Rather Than Despise

Children Wish Fathers Looked But With Their Eyes; Fathers That Children With Their Judgment Looked; And Either May Be Wrong.

Milk-livered Man, That Bear'st A Cheek For Blows, A Head For Wrongs; Who Hast Not In Thy Brows An Eye Discerning Thine Honor From Thy Suffering; [that Not Know'st Fools Do Those Villains Pity Who Are Punished Ere They Have Done Their Mischief. Where's Thy Drum? France Spreads His Banners In Our Noiseless Land, With Plumed Helm Thy State Begins To Threat, Whilst Thou, A Moral Fool, Sits Still And Cries 'alack, Why Does He So?']

How Can Tyrants Safely Govern Home, Unless Abroad They Purchase Great Alliance.

I Am Not Yet Of Percy's Mind, The Hotspur Of The North; He That Kills Me Some Six Or Seven Dozen Of Scots As A Breakfast, Washes His Hands, And Says To His Wife, 'fie Upon This Quiet Life! I Want Work.

For My Part, I May Speak It To My Shame, I Have A Truant Been To Chivalry; And So I Hear He Doth Account Me Too.

If It Be True That Good Wine Needs No Bush, 'tis True That A Good Play Needs No Epilogue.

Courage Mounteth With Occasion.

Your "if" Is The Only Peacemaker; Much Virtue In "if.

This We Prescribe, Though No Physician; Deep Malice Makes Too Deep Incision; Forget, Forgive; Conclude And Be Agreed; Our Doctors Say This Is No Month To Bleed.

All Is Well Ended, If The Suit Be Won.

That Truth Should Be Silent I Had Almost Forgot. (enobarbus)

Then Will I Raise Aloft The Milk-white Rose. For Whose Sweet Smell The Air Shall Be Perfumed.

A Good Old Man, Sir. He Will Be Talking. As They Say, When The Age Is In, The Wit Is Out.

Make Not Your Thoughts Your Prisons.

Hold, Or Cut Bowstrings.

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.

Fight Valiantly To-day; And Yet I Do Thee Wrong To Mind Thee Of It, For Thou Art Framed Of The Firm Truth Of Valor.

All Love's Pleasure Shall Not Match Its Woe.

A Peevish Self-willed Harlotry It Is. *she’s A Stubborn Little Brat.*

My Heart Is Turned To Stone; I Strike It, And It Hurts My Hand.

... By Indirections Find Directions Out.

Those That Are Good Manners At The Court Are As Ridiculous In The Country, As The Behavior Of The Country Is Most Mockable At The Court.

For Where Thou Art, There Is The World Itself, With Every Several Pleasure In The World, And Where Thou Art Not, Desolation.

I Have Sounded The Very Base-string Of Humility.

What's Past And What's To Come Is Strew'd With Husks And Formless Ruin Of Oblivion.

Do Not Spread The Compost On The Weeds.

To Set A Gloss On Faint Deeds, Hollow Welcomes, Recanting Goodness, Sorry Ere 'tis Shown; But Where There Is True Friendship, There Needs None.

The Devil Shall Have His Bargain; For He Was Never Yet A Breaker Of Proverbs--he Will Give The Devil His Due.

Brevity Is The Soul Of Wit.

April ... Hath Put A Spirit Of Youth In Everything.

Alas, That Love, So Gentle In His View, Should Be So Tyrannous And Rough In Proof! *it’s Sad. Love Looks Like A Nice Thing, But It’s Actually Very Rough When You Experience It.*

Stars Hide Your Fires; Let Not Light See My Black And Deep Desires: The Eyes Wink At The Hand; Yet Let That Be Which The Eye Fears, When It Is Done, To See

A Wretched Soul, Bruised With Adversity, We Bid Be Quiet When We Hear It Cry. But Were We Burd'ned With Like Weight Of Pain, As Much Or More We Should Ourselves Complain: So Thou, That Hast No Unkind Mate To Grieve Thee, With Urging Helpless Patience Wouldst Relieve Me; But If Thou Live To See Like Right Bereft, This Fool-begged Patience In Thee Will Be Left.

When A Wise Man Gives Thee Better Counsel, Give Me Mine Again.

It Provokes The Desire But It Takes Away The Performance. Therefore Much Drink May Be Said To Be An Equivocator With Lechery: It Makes Him And It Mars Him; It Sets Him On And It Takes Him Off.

I Despised My Arrival On This Earth And I Despise My Departure; It Is A Tragedy.

There Are A Sort Of Men, Whose Visages Do Cream And Mantle, Like A Standing Pond; And Do A Willful Stillness Entertain, With Purpose To Be Dressed In An Opinion Of Wisdom, Gravity Profound Conceit; As Who Should Say, I Am Sir Oracle, And When I Ope My Lips, Let No Dog Bark!

The Mightier Man, The Mightier Is The Thing That Makes Him Honored Or Begets Him Hate; For Greatest Scandal Waits On Greatest State.

And Fearless Minds Climb Soonest Unto Crowns.

What Win I, If I Gain The Thing I Seek? A Dream, A Breath, A Froth Of Fleeting Joy. Who Buys A Minute's Mirth To Wail A Week? Or Sells Eternity To Get A Toy? For One Sweet Grape Who Will The Vine Destroy? Or What Fond Beggar, But To Touch The Crown, Would With The Sceptre Straight Be Strucken Down?

No Matter Where; Of Comfort No Man Speak: Let's Talk Of Graves, Of Worms, And Epitaphs; Make Dust Our Paper And With Rainy Eyes Write Sorrow On The Bosom Of The Earth

I Am Not Prone To Weeping As Our Sex Commonly Are; The Want Of Which Vain Dew Perchance Shall Dry Your Pities; But I Have That Honorable Grief Lodged Here Which Burns Worse Than Tears Drown.

Light Boats Sail Swift, Though Greater Hulks Draw Deep.

What's The Newest Grief? Each Minute Tunes A New One.

Some Sins Do Bear Their Privilege On Earth, And So Doth Yours: Your Fault Was Not Your Folly; Needs Must You Lay Your Heart At His Dispose, Subjected Tribute To Commanding Love, Against Whose Fury And Unmatched Force The Aweless Lion Could Not Wage The Fight Nor Keep His Princely Heart From Richard's Hand.

Most Dangerous Is That Temptation That Doth Goad Us On To Sin In Loving Virtue.

A Jest's Prosperity Lies In The Ear Of Him That Hears It, Never In The Tongue Of Him That Makes It.

Our Holy Lives Must Win A New World's Crown.

Why Should You Think That I Should Woo In Scorn? Scorn And Derision Never Come In Tears: Look, When I Vow, I Weep; And Vows So Born, In Their Nativity All Truth Appears. How Can These Things In Me Seem Scorn To You, Bearing The Badge Of Faith, To Prove Them True?

Foul Whisp'rings Are Abroad.

Good Morrow, Fair Ones; Pray You, If You Know, Where In The Purlieus Of This Forest Stands A Sheep-cote Fenc'd About With Olive Trees?

With Mirth In Funeral And With Dirge In Marriage.

He Is As Full Of Valor As Of Kindness. Princely In Both.

O, Call Back Yesterday, Bid Time Return

I Doubt Not Then But Innocence Shall Makefalse Accusation Blush, And Tyrannytremble At Patience.

Mend When Thou Canst; Be Better At Thy Leisure.

Society Is No Comfort, To One Not Sociable.

All Gold And Silver Rather Turn To Dirt, An 'tis No Better Reckoned But Of These Who Worship Dirty Gods.

They Told Me I Was Everything. 'tis A Lie, I Am Not Ague-proof.

Romeo: I Dreamt A Dream Tonight. Mercutio: And So Did I. Romeo: Well, What Was Yours? Mercutio: That Dreamers Often Lie. Romeo: In Bed Asleep While They Do Dream Things True.

My Life, My Joy, My Food, My Ail The World!

There Is No Sure Foundation Set On Blood, No Certain Life Achieved By Others' Death.

That You Were Once Unkind Befriends Me Now, And For That Sorrow, Which I Then Did Feel, Needs Must I Under My Transgression Bow, Unless My Nerves Were Brass Or Hammered Steel.

Farewell! God Knows When We Shall Meet Again.

Foul Cankering Rust The Hidden Treasure Frets, But Gold That's Put To Use More Gold Begets.

The Blood Of Youth Burns Not With Such Excess As Gravity's Revolt To Wantonness.

For I Can Raise No Money By Vile Means.

They Met So Near With Their Lips That Their Breaths Embraced Together.

It Is Held That Valor Is The Chiefest Virtue, And Most Dignifies The Haver.

O, How Full Of Briers Is This Working-day World!

Tis Safter To Be That Which We Destroy Than By Destruction Dwell In Doubtful Joy.

Important Macbeth

Praising What Is Lost Makes The Remembrance Dear

Great Griefs Medicine The Less.

The Hideous God Of War.

Iago: She That Was Ever Fair And Never Proud, Had Tongue At Will And Yet Was Never Loud, Never Lack'd Gold And Yet Went Never Gay, Fled From Her Wish And Yet Said 'now I May,' She That Being Anger'd, Her Revenge Being Nigh, Bade Her Wrong Stay And Her Displeasure Fly, She That In Wisdom Never Was So Frail To Change The Cod's Head For The Salmon's Tail; She That Could Think And Ne'er Disclose Her Mind, See Suitors Following And Not Look Behind, She Was A Wight, If Ever Such Wight Were,-- Desdemona: To Do What? Iago: To Suckle Fools And Chronicle Small Beer.

Remembrance Of Things Past.

It Is That Fery Person For All The Orld, As Just As You Will Desire; And Seven Hundred Pounds Of Moneys, And Gold, And Silver, Is Her Grandsire Upon His Death's-bed-got Deliver To A Joyful Resurrections!

Tis Now The Very Witching Time Of Night, When Churchyards Yawn And Hell Itself Breathes Out Contagion To This World.

Denmark In Hamlet

Vaulting Ambition, Which O'erleaps Itself And Falls On The Other Side

Let Me Embrace Thee, Sour Adversity, For Wise Men Say It Is The Wisest Course.

If Men Could Be Contented To Be What They Are, There Were No Fear In Marriage.

My Charity Is Outrage, Life My Shame; And In That Shame Still Live My Sorrow's Rage!

The Law Hath Not Been Dead, Though It Hath Slept.

Measure For Measure

Who Is So Firm That Can't Be Seduced?

The Teeming Autumn Big With Rich Increase, Bearing The Wanton Burden Of The Prime Like Widowed Wombs After Their Lords Decease.

Love Is Blind And Lovers Cannot See The Pretty Follies That Themselves Commit

Is He On His Horse? O Happy Horse, To Bear The Weight Of Antony!

There Is A River In Macedon, And There Is Moreover A River In Monmouth. It Is Called Wye At Monmouth, But It Is Out Of My Prains What Is The Name Of The Other River; But 'tis All One, 'tis Alike As My Fingers Is To My Fingers, And There Is Salmons In Both.

When Remedies Are Past, The Griefs Are Ended By Seeing The Worst, Which Late On Hopes Depended.

Ships Are But Boards, Sailors But Men; There Be Land-rats And Water-rats, Water-thieves And Land-thieves, I Mean Pirates, And Thenthere Is The Peril Of Waters, Winds, And Rocks.

It Is A Basilisk Unto Mine Eye, Kills Me To Look On't.

That Which Is Now A Horse, Even With A Thought The Rack Dislimms, And Makes It Indistinct As Water Is In Water

Who Alone Suffers Suffers Most I' Th' Mind, Leaving Free Things And Happy Shows Behind; But Then The Mind Much Sufferance Doth O'erskip When Grief Hath Mates, And Bearing Fellowship.

Thou Sodden-witted Lord! Thou Hast No More Brain Than I Have In Mine Elbows.

There Is None Of My Uncle's Marks Upon You; He Taught Me How To Know A Man In Love; In Which Cage Of Rushes I Am Sure You Are Not Prisoner.

Rich Honesty Dwells Like A Miser, Sir, In A Poor House; As Your Pearl In Your Foul Oyster.

But Yet, I Say, If Imputation And Strong Circumstances, Which Lead Directly To The Door Of Truth, Will Give You Satisfaction, You May Have It.

But As The Unthought-on Accident Is Guilty To What We Wildly Do, So We Profess Ourselves To Be The Slaves Of Chance, And Flies Of Every Wind That Blows.

An Two Men Ride Of A Horse, One Must Ride Behind.

Oh Why Rebuke You Him That Loves You So? / Lay Breath So Bitter On Your Bitter Foe.

Was Ever Woman In This Humour Wooed? Was Ever Woman In This Humour Won?

The Course Of True Love Never Did Run Smooth.

Fools Are As Like Husbands As Pilchards Are To Herrings, The Husband's The Bigger.

Heaven Give You Many, Many Merry Days.

O, Men's Vows Are Women's Traitors! All Good Seeming, By Thy Revolt, O Husband, Shall Be Thought Put On For Villainy, Not Born Where't Grows, But Worn A Bait For Ladies.

By A Divine Instinct, Men's Minds Mistrust Ensuing Danger; As, By Proof, We See The Waters Swell Before A Boisterous Storm.

As I Love The Name Of Honour More Than I Fear Death.

Accommodated; That Is, When A Man Is, As They Say, Accommodated; Or When A Man Is, Being, Whereby A' May Be Thought To Be Accommodated,?which Is An Excellent Thing.

When That Churl Death My Bones With Dust Shall Cover.

Words Are Easy, Like The Wind; Faithful Friends Are Hard To Find.

In Peace There's Nothing So Becomes A Man As Modest Stillness And Humility: But When The Blast Of War Blows In Our Ears, Then Imitate The Action Of The Tiger; Stiffen The Sinews, Summon Up The Blood, Disguise Fair Nature With Hard-favour'd Rage; Then Lend The Eye A Terrible Aspect; . . . . Now Set The Teeth And Stretch The Nostril Wide, Hold Hard The Breath And Bend Up Every Spirit To His Full Height. On, On, You Noblest English.

Thou Whoreson Zed! Thou Unnecessary Letter! My Lord, If You Will Give Me Leave, I Will Tread This Unbolted Villain Into Mortar, And Daub The Wall Of A Jakes With Him. *all Cheer For Shakespearean Insults*

The Benediction Of These Covering Heavens Fall On Their Heads Like Dew, For They Are Worthy To Inlay Heaven With Stars.

O, Let Me Kiss That Hand! King Lear: Let Me Wipe It First; It Smells Of Mortality.

Woah Is Me To Have Seen What I Seen See What I See

Hamlet And Ophelia

Tis Ever Common That Men Are Merriest When They Are From Home.

Heaven Would That She These Gifts Should Have, And I To Live And Die Her Slave.

Knavery's Plain Face Is Never Seen Till Used.

O, Teach Me How You Look, And With What Art You Sway The Motion Of Demetrius' Heart."-helena

Tis In Ourselves That We Are Thus Or Thus. Our Bodies Are Our Gardens, To The Which Our Wills Are Gardeners: So That If We Will Plant Nettles, Or Sow Lettuce, Set Hyssop And Weed Up Tine, Supply It With One Gender Of Herbs, Or Distract It With Many, Either To Have It Sterile With Idleness, Or Manured With Industry, Why, The Power And Corrigible Authority Of This Lies In Our Wills.

Bosom Upon My Counsel; You'll Find It Wholesome.

By My Soul I Swear, There Is No Power In The Tongue Of Man To Alter Me.

By My Troth, I Care Not; A Man Can Die But Once; We Owe God A Death And Let It Go Which Way It Will He That Dies This Year Is Quit For The Next

Though Music Oft Hath Such A Charm To Make Bad Good, And Good Provoke To Harm.

I'll Look To Like; If Looking, Liking Move.

But Yet I'll Make Assurance Double Sure, And Take A Bond Of Fate: Thou Shalt Not Live.

And Then He Drew A Dial From His Poke, And Looking With Lack-lustre Eye, Says Very Wisely, 'it Is Ten O'clock: Thus We May See', Quoth He, 'how The World Wags: 'tis But An Hour Ago Since It Was Nine, And After One Hour More 'twill Be Eleven; And So From Hour To Hour We Ripe And Ripe, And Then From Hour To Hour We Rot And Rot.

Nature, As It Grows Again Toward Earth, Is Fashioned For The Journey, Dull And Heavy.

Rashly, And Praised Be Rashness For It--let Us Know, Our Indiscretion Sometime Serves Us Well When Our Deep Plots Do Pall, And That Should Learn Us There's A Divinity That Shapes Our Ends, Rough-hew Them How We Will

Sweetest Nut Hath Sourest Rind.

The Language I Have Learnt These Forty Years, My Native English, Now I Must Forgo; And Now My Tongue's Use Is To Me No More Than An Unstringed Viol Or A Harp, Or Like A Cunning Instrument Cased Up Or, Being Open, Put Into His Hands That Knows No Touch To Tune The Harmony.

Flesh And Blood, You, Brother Mine, That Entertain'd Ambition, Expell'd Remorse And Nature, Who, With Sebastian- Whose Inward Pinches Therefore Are Most Strong- Would Here Have Kill'd Your King, I Do Forgive Thee, Unnatural Though Thou Art.

O World, World! Thus Is The Poor Agent Despised. O Traitors And Bawds, How Earnestly Are You Set A-work, And How Ill Requited! Why Should Our Endeavor Be So Loved, And The Performance So Loathed?

False Face Must Hide What The False Heart Doth Know.

Polonius: Do You Know Me, My Lord? Hamlet: Excellent Well. You Are A Fishmonger.

Such Tricks Hath Strong Imagination, That, If It Would But Apprehend Some Joy, It Comprehends Some Bringer Of That Joy; Or In The Night, Imagining Some Fear, How Easy Is A Bush Supposed A Bear!

Yet But Three Come One More. Two Of Both Kinds Make Up Four. Ere She Comes Curst And Sad. Cupid Is A Knavish Lad. Thus To Make Poor Females Mad.

What Are You Doing Sister? / Killing Swine.

Give Thy Thoughts No Tongue.

'tis Best To Weigh The Enemy More Mighty Than He Seems.

If Thou Dost Seek To Have What Thou Dost Hide, By Self-example Mayst Thou Be Denied.

No Particular Scandal One Can Touch But It Confounds The Breather.

Come, Go With Us, Speak Fair; You May Salve So, Not What Is Dangerous Present, But The Los Of What Is Past.

Why, Thou Deboshed Fish Thou...wilt Thou Tell A Monstrous Lie, Being But Half A Fish And Half A Monster?

The Quality Of Mercy Is Not Strained

There Is No Such Sport As Sport By Sport O'erthrown.

Mirth Cannot Move A Soul In Agony.

Faith, Stay Here This Night; They Will Surely Do Us No Harm; You Saw They Speak Us Fair, Give Us Gold; Methinks They Are Such A Gentle Nation That, But For The Mountain Of Mad Flesh That Claims Marriage Of Me, Could Find In My Heart To Stay Here Still And Turn Witch.

A Woman Impudent And Mannish Grown Is Not More Loath'd Than An Effeminate Man.

The Rain, It Raineth Every Day.

Plain And Not Honest Is Too Harsh A Style.

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