Et tu Brute! (You too, Brutus!)

Delay leads impotent and snail-paced beggary.

These flowers are like the pleasures of the world.

Things base and vile, holding no quantity, love can transpose to form and dignity

I have seen better faces in my time Than stands on any shoulder that I see Before me at this instant.

I count myself in nothing else so happy as in a soul remembering my good Friends

I am sir Oracle, and when I ope my lips, let no dog bark.