O war! thou son of Hell!

So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep. But they are creul tears. This sorrow's heavenly; it strikes where it doth love.

My crown is in my heart, not on my head.

This is the short and the long of it.

I had rather eleven died nobly for their country than one voluptuously surfeit out of action.

Never play with the feelings of others, because you may win the game but the risk is that you will surely lose the person for life time

Be not too tame neither, but let your own Discretion be your tutor; suit the action to the word, the word to the action.