I care not, a man can die but once; we owe God and death.

We cannot all be masters.

There is not one wise man in twenty that will praise himself.

Love bears it out even to the edge of doom.

He that dies pays all debts.

The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones.

The moon of Rome, chaste as the icicle that's curded by the frost from purest snow.