So sways she level in her husband's heart:
For, boy, however we do praise ourselves,
Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm,
More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn
Than women's are.

DUKE.

Act 2, Sc. 4, 1. 29.

For women are as roses, whose fair flower
Being once display'd doth fall that

VIOLA.

very hour.

Act 2, Sc. 4, 1. 38.

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. Was not this love indeed?
We men may say more, swear more, but indeed
Our shows are more than will; for still we prove
Much in our vows, but little in our love.

MALVOLIO.

Act 2, Sc. 4, l. 109.

Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em.

Act 2, Sc. 5, l. 125.

OLIVIA.

But, would you undertake another suit,
I had rather hear you to solicit that,
Than music from the spheres.

OLIVIA.

Act 3, Sc. 1, l. 104.

O! what a deal of scorn looks beautiful
In the contempt and anger of his lip!

Act 3, Sc. 1, l. 139.

OLIVIA.

Love sought is good, but given unsought is better. Act 3, Sc. 1, l. 151.

FABIAN.

You are now sail'd into the north of my lady's opinion; where you will hang like an icicle on a Dutchman's beard, unless you do redeem it by some laudable attempt, either of valour or policy. Act 3, Sc. 2, 1. 26.

OLIVIA.

Why, this is very midsummer madness.

SIR TOBY.

Act 3, Sc. 4, 1. 52.

Swear horrible; for it comes to pass oft, that a terrible oath, with a swaggering accent sharply twanged off, gives manhood more approbation than ever proof itself would earn'd him.

OLIVIA.

Act 3, Sc. 4, l. 155.

A fiend like thee might bear my soul to hell.

Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness,
Or any taint of vice whose strong corruption
Inhabits our frail blood.

Act 3, Sc. 4, 1. 318.

ANTONIO.

In nature there's no blemish, but the mind;
None can be call'd deform'd, but the unkind:
Virtue is beauty, but the beauteous evil

Are empty trunks o'erflourished by the devil.

SEBASTIAN.

Act 3, Sc. 4, 1. 332.

Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep;
If it be thus to dream still let me sleep.

OLIVIA.

Act 4, Sc. 1, l. 63.

It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear

As howling after music.

MALVOLIO.

Act 5, Sc. 1, l. 103.

Made the most notorious geck and gull

That e'er invention play'd on.

CLOWN.

Act 5, Sc. 1, l. 328.

Thus the whirligig of time brings in his re

venges.

Act 5, Sc. 1, l. 360.

THE WINTER'S TALE.

LEONTES.

Either thou art most ignorant by age,

Or thou wast born a fool.

PAULINA.

It is an heretic that makes the fire,

Not she which burns in it.

Act 2, Sc. 1, l. 173.

Act 2, Sc. 3, l. 115.

AUTOLYCUS.

A snapper-up of unconsidered trifles.

PERDITA.

Act 4, Sc. 3, 1. 26.

By the pattern of mine own thoughts I cut out the purity of his.

CAMILLO.

Prosperity 's the very bond of love,

Act 4, Sc. 3, 1. 367.

For new-made honour doth forget men's names; 'Tis too respective, and too sociable,

For your conversion.

BASTARD.

Act 1, Sc. 1, l. 187.

But this is worshipful society,

And fits the mounting spirit like myself,

For he is but a bastard to the time

That doth not smack of observation;

BASTARD.

Act 1, Sc. 1, 7. 206.

Some sins do bear their privilege on earth.

Act 1, Sc. 1, l. 261.

AUSTRIA.

For courage mounteth with occasion.

CITIZEN.

Act 2, Sc. 1, l. 82.

-

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.
O! two such silver currents, where they join,
Do glorify the banks that bound them in.

Act 2, Sc. 1, l. 437.

Here's a stay,

BASTARD.

That shakes the rotten carcass of old Death
Out of his rags! Here's a large mouth, indeed,
That spits forth death, and mountains, rocks, and

seas,

Talks as familiarly of roaring lions

As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs.

LEWIS.

Act 2, Sc. 1, l. 455.

Drawn in the flattering table of her eye.

CONSTANCE.

Act 2, Sc. 1, l. 504.

I will instruct my sorrows to be proud,

For grief is proud, and makes his owner stoop.
To me, and to the state of my great grief,
Let kings assemble; for my grief's so great
That no supporter but the huge firm earth
Can hold it up here I and sorrows sit;
Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it.

Act 3, So. 1, l. 68.