Shakespeare play from quotes

Random Literature or Shakespeare Quiz

Can you name the Shakespeare plays from quotes?

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He that hath a beard is more than a youth, and he that hath no beard is less than a man.
Our revels now are ended.
To unpathed waters, undreamed shores.
O, that this too too solid flesh would melt,/Thaw and resolve itself into a dew!
How use doth breed a habit in a man!
All the world ’s a stage,/And all the men and women merely players.
For God’s sake, let us sit upon the ground/And tell sad stories of the death of kings.
Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall.
Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul,/But I do love thee! and when I love thee not,/Chaos is come again.
Golden lads and girls all must,/As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.
We have heard the chimes at midnight.
A young man married is a man that ’s marr’d
Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world/Like a Colossus, and we petty men/Walk under his huge legs and peep about/To find ourselves dishonourable graves.
The eagle suffers little birds to sing.
Had I but served my God with half the zeal/I served my king, he would not in mine age/Have left me naked to mine enemies.
The common curse of mankind,—folly and ignorance.
If music be the food of love, play on
Such duty as the subject owes the prince,/Even such a woman oweth to her husband.
I will make a Star-chamber matter of it.
The better part of valour is discretion.
As flies to wanton boys are we to th' gods,/They kill us for their sport.
Now is the winter of our discontent/Made glorious summer by this sun of York
O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend/The brightest heaven of invention!
That no Italian priest/Shall tithe or toll in our dominions.
Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night!
Men shut their doors against a setting sun.
Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale/Her infinite variety.
The first thing we do, let’s kill all the lawyers.
Lord, what fools these mortals be!
Let’s go hand in hand, not one before another
And many strokes, though with a little axe,/Hew down and fell the hardest-timbered oak.
The quality of mercy is not strain’d
As an arrow shot/From a well-experienc’d archer hits the mark/His eye doth level at.
The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo.
A plague o’ both your houses!
If it were done when ’t is done, then ’t were well/It were done quickly
His nature is too noble for the world:/He would not flatter Neptune for his trident,/Or Jove for ’s power to thunder.

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