Sonnet Xxxiii.
full many a glorious morning have I seen
Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye,
Kissing with golden face the meadows green,
Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy;
Anon permit the basest clouds to ride,
With ugly rack on...

Sonnet Cxvi.
let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments: love is not love,
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove;
O, no! it is an ever-fixèd mark,
That looks on tempests, and is never shaken;...

From “Julius Cæsar,” Act II. Sc. 1.
Enter PORTIA.
  PORTIA.—                Brutus, my lord!
  BRUTUS.—Portia, what mean you? Wherefore rise you now?
It is not for your health thus to commit
Your weak condition to the raw cold morning.
  PORTIA.—Nor...

TAKE, 1 O, take those lips away,
  That so sweetly were forsworn;
And those eyes, like break of day,
  Lights that do mislead the morn;
But my kisses bring again,
Seals of love, but sealed in vain.

Hide, O, hide those hills of snow
  ...

Sonnet Lxxxvii.
farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing,
And like enough thou know’st thy estimate:
The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing;
My bonds in thee are all determinate.
For how do I hold thee but by thy granting?
And for that...

From “All ’s Well That Ends Well,” Act I. Sc. 1.

I AM undone: there is no living, none,
If Bertram be away. It were all one,
That I should love a bright particular star,
And think to wed it, he is so above me:
In his bright radiance and collateral light...

From “As You Like It,” Act II. Sc. 7.
      BLOW, blow, thou winter wind,
      Thou art not so unkind
          As man’s ingratitude;
      Thy tooth is not so keen,
      Because thou art not seen,
          Although thy breath be rude.
...

From “King Henry VIII.,” Act III. Sc. 2.
CROMWELL, I did not think to shed a tear
In all my miseries; but thou hast forced me,
Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman.
Let ’s dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell;
And—when I am forgotten, as I...

From “Hamlet,” Act III. Sc. 1.
  HAMLET.—To be, or not to be,—that is the question:—
Whether ’t is nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And, by opposing, end them?—To die, to...

From “Cymbeline,” Act IV. Sc. 2.

FEAR no more the heat o’ the sun,
  Nor the furious winter’s rages;
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
  Home art gone, and ta’en thy wages:
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.

...