What's done can't be undone.
After life's fitful fever he sleeps well. Treason has done his worst. Nor steel nor poison, malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing can touch him further.
When I was at home I was in a better place
O! Let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven; keep me in temper; I would not be mad!
Listen to many, speak to a few.
Death, a necessary end, will come when it will come