Fool! Don't you see now that I could have poisoned you a hundred times had I been able to live without you.

[At Marc Antony's tomb:] Nothing could part us in life, but now in death we are likely to change places, you the Roman lying here in Egyptian soil, and I, helpless woman that I am, being buried in Italy.

All strange and terrible events are welcome, but comforts we despise.

Fool! Don't you see now that I could have poisoned you a hundred times had I been able to live without you.

My honour was not yielded, but conquered merely.

Leave the fishing-rod, Great General, to us sovereigns of Pharos and Canopus. Your game is cities and kings and continents.

I will not be triumphed over.