And when love speaks, the voice of all the gods makes Heaven drowsy with the harmony.

I am a true laborer: I earn that I eat, get that I wear, owe no man hate, envy no man's happiness, glad of other men's good, content with my harm.

Report of fashions in proud Italy Whose manners still our tardy-apish nation Limps after in base imitation

No, Cassius; for the eye sees not itself, But by reflection, by some other things.

Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge.

I have lived long enough. My way of life is to fall into the sere, the yellow leaf, and that which should accompany old age, as honor, love, obedience, troops of friends I must not look to have.

Love all, trust a few, Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy Rather in power than use; and keep thy friend Under thy own life's key: be check'd for silence, But never tax'd for speech.