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The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,

Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven,
And as imagination bodies forth

The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.

LOVE'S LABOR 'S LOST.

Act ii. Sc. 1.

A merrier man,

Within the limit of becoming mirth,
I never spent an hour's talk withal.

Act v. Sc. 1.

He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument.

Act v. Sc. 2.

A jest's prosperity lies in the ear

Of him that hears it, never in the tongue

Of him that makes it.

Act v. Sc. 2.

They have measured many a mile,

To tread a ineasure with you on this grass.

MERCHANT OF VENICE.

Act i. Sc. 1.

I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano;
A stage, where every man must play a part,
And mine a sad one.

Act i. Sc. 1.

Why should a man, whose blood is warm within,
Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster?

Act i. Sc. 1.

I am Sir Oracle,

And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!

Act i. Sc. 1.

Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing; more than any man in all Venice. 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.

Act i. Sc. 3.

Even there, where merchants most do congregate.

Act i. Sc. 3.

The Devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.

Act i. Sc. 3.

Sufferance is the badge of all our tribe.

Merchant of Venice-Continued.

Act i. Sc. 3.

Many a time, and oft,

In the Rialto, you have rated me.

Act ii. Sc. 2.

It is a wise father that knows his own child.

Act ii. Sc. 6.

All things that are,

Are with more spirit chased than enjoyed.

Act ii. Sc. 7.

All that glisters is not gold.

Act iii. Sc. 1.

I am a Jew: hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions?

Act iii. Sc. 5.

Thus when I shun Scylla, your father, I fall into Charybdis, your mother.

Act iv. Sc. 1.

What! wouldst thou have a serpent sting thee twice?

Act iv. Sc. 1.

The quality of mercy is not strained;

It droppeth, as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath: it is twice blessed;
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes.

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I cannot find it; 't is not in the bond.

Act iv. Sc. 1.

I have thee on the hip.

Act iv. Sc. 1.

I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word.

Act v. Sc. 1.

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank!

Act v. Sc. 1.

I am never merry when I hear sweet music.

Act v. Sc. 1.

The man that hath no music in himself,

Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils.

Act v. Sc. 1..

How far that little candle throws his beams!
So shines a good deed in a naughty world.

AS YOU LIKE IT.

- Act i. Sc. 2.

Well said that was laid on with a trowel.

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O how full of briars is this working-day world!

Act ii. Sc. 1.

Sweet are the uses of adversity,

Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head.

Act ii. Sc. 1.

And this our life, exempt from public haunt,
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in every thing.

Act ii. Sc. 1.

"Poor deer," quoth he, "thou makʼst a testament, As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more

To that which had too much."

Act ii. Sc. 3.

And He that doth the ravens feed,

Yea, providently caters for the sparrow,

Be comfort to my age!

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