I would challenge you to a battle of wits, but I see you are unarmed!

What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted! Thrice is he arm'd, that hath his quarrel just.

This was the noblest Roman of them all. All the conspirators, save only he,Did that they did in envy of Caesar;He only, in a general honest thoughtAnd common good to all, made one of them. His life was gentle, and the elementsSo mixd in him that Nature might stand upAnd say to all the world, This was a man!

Is it not strange that desire should so many years outlive performance?

Dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant can trickle when she wounds!

And by that destiny to perform an act Whereof what's past is prologue, what to come In yours and my discharge.

And where two raging fires meet together, they do consume the thing that feeds their fury.