Oft expectation fails, and most oft there
Where most it promises; and oft it hits
Where hope is coldest, and despair most fits.
All's Well That Ends Well. Act II, Sc. 1.

FE

In the great hand of God I stand, and
thence

Against the undivulg'd pretence I fight
Of treasonous malice.

Macbeth. Act II, Sc. 3.

E, ignorant of ourselves,

WEB

Beg often our own harms, which the
wise powers

Deny us for our good; so find we profit
By losing of our prayers.

Antony and Cleopatra. Act II, Sc. 1.

LL other doubts, by time let them be
clear'd:

ALL

Fortune brings in some boats that are not
Cymbeline. Act IV, Sc. 3.

steer'd.

The

Hand

of God

His
Mercy

His

Indul

gence

The

Dawn

Prayer

Tears

Calm after Storm

THE

HERE be some sports are painful, and their labour

Delight in them sets off; some kinds of base

ness

Are nobly undergone, and most poor matters
Point to rich ends.

The Tempest. Act III, Sc. 1.

OW I want

NOW

Spirits to enforce, art to enchant;

And my ending is despair,

Unless I be relieved by prayer,

Which pierces so, that it assaults
Mercy itself, and frees all faults.

The Tempest. Epilogue.

JOY

OW much better it is to weep at joy,

H than to joy at weeping!

Much Ado About Nothing. Act I, Sc. 1.

F after every tempest come such calms,

I Mayr wind blow till they have

waken'd death!

And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas
Olympus-high, and duck again as low

As hell's from heaven! If it were now to die,
'Twere now to be most happy; for, I fear,
My soul hath her content so absolute
That not another comfort like to this
Succeeds in unknown fate.

Othello. Act II, Sc. 1.

is as a gum, which oozes

OUR Poesy is as 'tis nourish'd.

i' the flint

Poetry

The fire

Shows not till it be struck; our gentle flame
Provokes itself, and, like the current, flies
Each bound it chafes.

Timon of Athens. Act I, Sc. I.

HE music of the spheres! . .

THE
Rarest sounds! Do ye not hear?

Most heavenly music!

It nips me into listening, and thick slumber
Hangs upon mine eyes: let me rest.

Pericles. Act V, Sc. I.

Music

Ecstasy

Mankind

G

IVE me a gash, put me to present pain;
Lest this great sea of joys rushing upon

me

O'erbear the shores of my mortality,
And drown me with their sweetness.

H

ERE are your sons again

The benediction of these covering heavens

Fall on their heads like dew! for they are worthy

To inlay heaven with stars.

Cymbeline. Act V, Sc. 5.

How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world,

That has such people in't!

The Tempest. Act V, Sc. 1.

COUNTRY LIFE

UR courtiers say all's savage but at

OUR

court;

Experience, O, thou disprov'st report!

The imperious seas breed monsters; for the dish

Poor tributary rivers as sweet fish.

Cymbeline. Act IV, Sc. 2.

DID you but know the city's usuries,

And felt them knowingly; the art o' the
court,

As hard to leave as keep; whose top to climb
Is certain falling, or so slippery that

The fear's as bad as falling; the toil o' the war,
A pain that only seems to seek out danger
I' the name of fame and honour, which dies
i' the search,

And hath as oft a slanderous epitaph
As record of fair act; nay, many times,
Doth ill deserve by doing well; what's worse,
Must curt'sy at the censure.

Cymbeline. Act III, Sc.

3.

Simplicity

The
World
Well

Lost