| Quotes |
Topic |
| Shakespeare | A buck of the first head. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2. |
| Shakespeare | 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. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2. |
| Shakespeare | Many can brook the weather that love not the wind. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2. |
| Shakespeare | You two are book-men. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2. |
| Shakespeare | Dictynna, goodman Dull. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2. |
| Shakespeare | These are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater, and delivered upon the mellowing of occasion. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2. |
| Shakespeare | For where is any author in the world Teaches such beauty as a woman's eye? Learning is but an adjunct to ourself. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 3. |
| Shakespeare | It adds a precious seeing to the eye. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 3. |
| Shakespeare | As sweet and musical As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair, And when Love speaks, the voice of all the gods Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 3. |
| Shakespeare | 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. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 3. |
| Shakespeare | He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 1. |
| Shakespeare | Priscian! a little scratched, 't will serve. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 1. |
| Shakespeare | They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 1. |
| Shakespeare | In the posteriors of this day, which the rude multitude call the afternoon. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 1. |
| Shakespeare | They have measured many a mile To tread a measure with you on this grass. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 2. |
| Shakespeare | Let me take you a button-hole lower. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 2. |
| Shakespeare | I have seen the day of wrong through the little hole of discretion. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 2. |
| Shakespeare | A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 2. |
| Shakespeare | When daisies pied and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver-white, And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 2. |
| Shakespeare | The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 2. |
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