What's gone, and what's past help, Should be past grief.
Defer no time, delays have dangerous ends.
Let me have war, say I; it exceeds peace as far as day does night; it's spritely, waking, audible, and full of vent.
More matter with less art.
O hell! to choose love with another's eye.
CLEOPATRA: If it be love indeed, tell me how much. ANTONY: There's beggary in the love that can be reckoned. CLEOPATRA: I'll set a bourne how far to be belov'd. ANTONY: Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth.