What's done can't be undone.

. . . it is impossible you should take true root but by the fair weather that you make yourself it is needful that you frame the season of your own harvest.

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

O madam, my old heart is cracked, it's cracked!

A peace is of the nature of a conquest; for then both parties nobly are subdued, and neither party loser.

Some smack of age in you, some relish of the saltness of time.

Men of few words are the best men." (3.2.41)