Shakespeare play from quotes

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Can you name the Shakespeare plays from quotes?

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

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