The World Is Grown So Bad, That Wrens Make Prey Where Eagles Dare Not Perch.

The world is grown so bad,
That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch.
-- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), King Richard III
-- Act i, Sc. 3

The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), King Richard II -- Act i, Sc.
3...
The king's name is a tower of strength. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), King Richard III -- Act v, Sc.
3...
A thing devised by the enemy. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), King Richard III -- Act v, Sc.
3...
Their lips were four red roses on a stalk. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), King Richard III -- Act iv, Sc.
3...
The sons of Edward sleep in Abraham's bosom. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), King Richard III -- Act iv, Sc.
3...
Framed in the prodigality of nature. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), King Richard III -- Act i, Sc.
2...
Thou troublest me; I am not in the vein. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), King Richard III -- Act iv, Sc.
2...
To leave this keen encounter of our wits. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), King Richard III -- Act i, Sc.
2...
So wise so young, they say, do never live long. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), King Richard III -- Act iii, Sc.
1...