What, no more ceremony? See, my women! Against the blown rose may they stop their nose That kneel'd unto the buds.

But most it is presumption in us when the help of heaven we count the act of men.

Tis no sin for a man to labor in his vocation.

Things done well and with a care, exempt themselves from fear.

Fare thee well, king: sith thus thou wilt appear, Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here.

Forever, and forever, farewell, Cassius! If we do meet again, why, we shall smile; If not, why then this parting was well made.

Bait the hook well. This fish will bite.