So distribution should undo excess, and each man have enough.

I love you more than word can wield the matter, Dearer than eye-sight, space and liberty

Beware the ides of March.

Lady, you know no rules of charity, Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses.

My friends were poor, but honest, so's my love.

Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine.

One man in his time plays many parts.