I stalk about her door, like a strange soul upon the Stygian banks staying for waftage.

God shall be my hope, my stay, my guide and lantern to my feet.

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

O, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven

We must be brief when traitors brave the field.

Of all knowledge the wise and good seek most to know themselves.

I had rather be a kitten and cry mew Than one of these same metre ballet-mongers.