Shakespeare play from quotes

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Can you name the Shakespeare plays from quotes?

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

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