In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger; Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage; Then lend the eye a terrible aspect; . . . . Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide, Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit To his full height. On, on, you noblest English.

Thou art a boil, a plague sore, an embossed carbuncle in my corrupted blood.

Angels and ministers of grace defend us.

I wonder that you will still be talking. Nobody marks you.

In the modesty of fearful duty, I read as much as from the rattling tongue of saucy and audacious eloquence.

Where hateful Death put on his ugliest mask.

He who has injured thee was either stronger or weaker than thee. If weaker, spare him; if stronger, spare thyself.