...But Is It Shakespeare? II

Random Literature or Literary Character Quiz

Can you name the source of each famous quote below—whether or not it is from Shakespeare?

Updated Aug 15, 2012

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Famous QuoteShakespeare or Not (S or N)Source
Even a fool may be wise after the event.
When we are born, we cry that we are come to this great stage of fools.
Old age should burn and rave at close of day; rage, rage against the dying of the light.
The quality of mercy is not strained, it droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath.
There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.
O thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee devil!
With the first link, the chain is forged. The first speech censored, the first thought forbidden, the first freedom denied, chains us all irrevocably.
Drink to me only with thine eyes, and I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, and I'll not look for wine.
Cleanliness is next to Godliness.
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.
By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, old Time is still a-flying.
Water, water, everywhere, nor any drop to drink.
How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, that has such people in it!
The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers.
Famous QuoteShakespeare or Not (S or N)Source
Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall.
I am constant as the Northern Star, of whose true fixed and resting quality there is no fellow in the firmament.
She walks in beauty, like the night; of cloudless climes and starry skies.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
For mine own part, it was Greek to me.
The fool doth think he is wise but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.
Brevity is the soul of wit.
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time.
Age steals away all things, even the mind.
I think that I shall never see a poem lovely as a tree.
The gods help them that help themselves.
If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach.
O my Luve's like a red, red rose, that's newly sprung in June. O, my Luve's like the melodie, that's sweetly play'd in tune.
Physician, heal thyself.

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