When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought.

Dispute not with her: she is lunatic.

I have very poor and unhappy brains for drinking: I could well wish courtesy would invent some other custom of entertainment.

Forever, and forever, farewell, Cassius! If we do meet again, why, we shall smile; If not, why then this parting was well made.

O, what men dare do! what men may do! what men daily do, not knowing what they do.

I should think this a gull, but that the white-bearded fellow speaks it; knavery cannot, sure, hide himself in such reverence.

Remuneration! O! That's the Latin word for three farthings