Truly thou art damned, like an ill-roasted egg, all on one side.

Some men there are love not a gaping pig, some that are mad if they behold a cat, and others when the bagpipe sings I the nose cannot contain their urine.

From this day forward until the end of the world...we in it shall be remembered...we band of brothers.

Where hateful Death put on his ugliest mask.

Fight valiantly to-day; and yet I do thee wrong to mind thee of it, for thou art framed of the firm truth of valor.

Let me be ignorant, and in nothing good, but graciously to know I am no better.

Blest are those Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled, That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please.