I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman.

Wolves and bears, they say, casting their savagery aside, have done like offices of pity.

We few. We happy few. We band of brothers, for he today That sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother.

These cardinals trifle with me; I abhor; This dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome.

One half of me is yours, the other half is yours, Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours, And so all yours.

What's brave, what's noble, let's do it after the Roman fashion.

in black ink my love may still shine bright.