Literature Quiz / Shakespeare play from quotes

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Can you name the Shakespeare plays from quotes?

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

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