If I can catch him once upon the hip, I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.
That truth should be silent I had almost forgot. (Enobarbus)
it is not enough to speak, but to speak truee
The sudden hand of Death close up mine eye!
Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied, And vice sometime by action dignified.
The clamorous owl that nightly hoots and wonders At our quaint spirits.