SOOTHSAYER: Beware the Ides of March. CAESAR: He is a dreamer. Let us leave him. Pass.
Speak low if you speak love.
Spirits of peace, where are ye? are ye all gone? And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye?
She that was ever fair, and never proud, had tongue at will, and yet was never loud... She that could think, and ne'er disclose her mind, see suitors following, and not look behind. She was a wight, if ever such wight wereâ€” to suckle fools and chronicle small beer.
She's not well married that lived married long, but she's best married that dies married young.
Show you sweet Caesar's wounds, poor, poor dumb mouths, and bid them speak for me.
Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea, but sad mortality o'ersways their power, how with this rage shall beauty hold a plea, whose action is no stronger than a flower? O how shall summer's honey breath hold out against the wrackful siege of batt'ring days, when rocks impregnable are not so stout, nor gates of steel so strong but time decays? O fearful meditation, where alack, shall time's best jewel from time's chest lie hid? Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back, or who his spoil of beauty can forbid?
Since you will buckle fortune on my back, To bear her burden whe'r I will or no, I must have patience to endure the load.
Sir, for holy offices I have a time; a time to think upon the part of business which I bear i' th' state; and nature does require her times of preservation, which perforce I, her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal, must give my tendance to.
Some there be that shadow's kiss, and have but a shadow's bliss. There be fools alive, silver'd o'er, and so was this. Take what wife you will to bed, I will ever be your head: so be gone; you are sped. The Merchant of Venice (Arragon at II, ix)