Literature Quiz / Shakespeare play from quotes

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Can you name the Shakespeare plays from quotes?

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

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