"And then he drew a dial from his poke, And, looking on it with lack-lustre eye, Says very wisely, ‘It is ten o’clock: Thus we may see,’ quoth he, ‘how the world wags.’"

"And rail’d on Lady Fortune in good terms, In good set terms."

"A fool, a fool! I met a fool i’ the forest, A motley fool; a miserable world! As I do live by food, I met a fool; Who laid him down and bask’d him in the sun."

"Live a little; comfort a little; cheer thyself a little."

"Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty; For in my youth I never did apply Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood, Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo The means of weakness and debility; Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, Frosty, but kindly."

"For in my youth I never did apply Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood."

"And He that doth the ravens feed, Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, Be comfort to my age!"

"There is a man haunts the forest, that abuses our young plants with carving Rosalind on their barks; hangs odes upon hawthorns and elegies on brambles."

"I thank God I am not a woman, to be touched with so many giddy offences as he hath generally taxed their whole sex withal."

"‘Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens.’"

"‘Poor deer,’ quoth he, ‘thou makest a testament As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more To that which had too much.’"

"The big round tears Coursed one another down his innocent nose In piteous chase."

"Sweet are the uses of adversity; Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head: And this our life exempt from public haunt Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones and good in every thing."

"Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, The seasons’ difference; as the icy fang And churlish chiding of the winter’s wind, Which, when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say ‘This is no flattery.’"

"Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court?"

"Were it not better, Because that I am more than common tall, That I did suit me all points like a man? A gallant curtle-axe upon my thigh, A boar-spear in my hand; and—in my heart Lie there what hidden woman’s fear there will— We’ll have a swashing and a martial outside, As many other mannish cowards have That do outface it with their semblances."

"Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold."

"We still have slept together, Rose at an instant, learn’d, play’d, eat together, And wheresoe’er we went, like Juno’s swans, Still we went coupled and inseparable."

"O, how full of briers is this working-day world!"

"Celia: Not a word? Rosalind: Not one to throw at a dog."

"Hereafter, in a better world than this, I shall desire more love and knowledge of you."

"My pride fell with my fortunes."

"Sir, you have wrestled well and overthrown More than your enemies."

"One out of suits with fortune."

"If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who should down."

"Your heart’s desires be with you!"

"Celia: Young gentleman, your spirits are too bold for your years. You have seen cruel proof of this man’s strength: if you saw yourself with your eyes, or knew yourself with your judgement, the fear of your adventure would counsel you to a more equal enterprise. We pray you, for your own sake, to embrace your own safety, and give over this attempt. Rosalind: Do, young sir; your reputation shall not therefore be misprised: we will make it our suit to the Duke that the wrestling might not go forward. Orlando: I beseech you, punish me not with your hard thoughts; wherein I confess me much guilty, to deny so fair and excellent ladies any thing. But let your fair eyes and gentle wishes go with me to my trial: wherein if I be foiled, there is but one shamed that was never gracious; if killed, but one dead that is willing to be so: I shall do my friends no wrong, for I have none to lament me, the world no injury, for in it I have nothing; only in the world I fill up a place, which may be better supplied when I have made it empty. Rosalind: The little strength that I have, I would it were with you."

"Well said: that was laid on with a trowel."

"Celia: Here comes Monsieur Le Beau. Rosalind: With his mouth full of news. Celia: Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed their young. Rosalind: Then shall we be news-crammed."

"Since the little wit that fools have was silenced, the little foolery that wise men have makes a great show."

"The more pity, that fools may not speak wisely what wise men do foolishly."

"How now, wit! whither wander you?"

"Celia: Let us sit and mock the good housewife Fortune from her wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be bestowed equally. Rosalind: I would we could do so; for her benefits are mightily misplaced; and the bountiful blind woman doth most mistake in her gifts to women. Celia: ’Tis true; for those that she makes fair she scarce makes honest; and those that she makes honest she makes very ill-favouredly. Rosalind: Nay, now thou goest from Fortune’s office to Nature’s: Fortune reigns in gifts of the world, not in the lineaments of Nature."

"I will forget the condition of my estate, to rejoice in yours."

"I show more mirth than I am mistress of; and would you yet I were merrier? Unless you could teach me to forget a banished father, you must not learn me how to remember any extraordinary pleasure."

"This wrestler shall clear all: nothing remains but that I kindle the boy thither."

"Yet he’s gentle; never schooled, and yet learned; full of noble device; of all sorts enchantingly beloved; and indeed so much in the heart of the world, and especially of my own people, who best know him, that I am altogether misprised."

"I hope I shall see an end of him; for my soul, yet I know not why, hates nothing more than he."

"Now will I stir this gamester."

"I no further offend you than becomes me for my good."

"Give me the poor allottery my father left me by testament; with that I will go buy my fortunes."

"The spirit of my father grows strong in me."

"The courtesy of nations allows you my better, in that you are the first-born; but the same tradition takes not away my blood, were there twenty brothers betwixt us: I have as much of my father in me as you."

"The spirit of my father, which I think is within me, begins to mutiny against this servitude."

"Report speaks goldenly of his profit."

"Bequeathed me by will but poor a thousand crowns."

"The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet."

"'T is but the shadow of a wife you see, The name and not the thing."