| Author |
Quotes |
| William Shakespeare | My pride fell with my fortunes. -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 2. |
| William Shakespeare | -Cel. |
| William Shakespeare | O, how full of briers is this working-day world! -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 3. |
| William Shakespeare | Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold. -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 3. |
| William Shakespeare | We 'll have a swashing and a martial outside, As many other mannish cowards have. -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 3. |
| William Shakespeare | Sweet are the uses of adversity, Which like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head, 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. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 1. |
| William Shakespeare | The big round tears Coursed one another down his innocent nose In piteous chase. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 1. |
| William Shakespeare | "Poor deer," quoth he, "thou makest a testament As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more To that which had too much." -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 1. |
| William Shakespeare | Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 1. |
| William Shakespeare | And He that doth the ravens feed, Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, Be comfort to my age! -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 3. |
| William Shakespeare | For in my youth I never did apply Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 3. |
| William Shakespeare | Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, Frosty, but kindly. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 3. |
| William Shakespeare | O, good old man, how well in thee appears The constant service of the antique world, When service sweat for duty, not for meed! Thou art not for the fashion of these times, Where none will sweat but for promotion. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 3. |
| William Shakespeare | 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. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 4. |
| William Shakespeare | I shall ne'er be ware of mine own wit till I break my shins against it. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 4. |
| William Shakespeare | Under the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 5. |
| William Shakespeare | I met a fool i' the forest, A motley fool. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7. |
| William Shakespeare | And rail'd on Lady Fortune in good terms, In good set terms. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7. |
| William Shakespeare | 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." -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7. |
| William Shakespeare | 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. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7. |
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