I was born free as Caesar; so were you

Blow, blow, thou winter wind Thou art not so unkind, As man's ingratitude.

It is not night when I do see your face, Therefore I think I am not in the night; Nor doth this wood lack worlds of company, For you in my respect are all the world: Then how can it be said I am alone, When all the world is here to look on me?

For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar's angel: Judge, O you gods, how dearly Caesar loved him! This was the most unkindest cut of all

Have I thought long to see this morning’s face, And doth it give me such a sight as this?

Oh, that way madness lies; let me shun that.

To unpathed waters, undreamed shores.