Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.
To hold, as 't were, the mirror up to nature.
Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow.
He kills her in her own humor.
Society is no comfort, to one not sociable.
Virtuous and fair, royal and gracious.