The ides of March are come. Soothsayer: Ay, Caesar; but not gone.
What a deformed thief this fashion is.
Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe.
Conceit in weakest bodies works the strongest.
While we lie tumbling in the hay.
Tis in ourselves that we are thus or thus. Our bodies are our gardens to the which our wills are gardeners.