What's done is done. The joy is in the doing.

It is as easy to count atomies as to resolve the propositions of a lover.

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead! In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger.

Miracles are ceased; and therefore we must needs admit the means, how things are perfected.

Adversity makes strange bedfellows.

The gloomy shade of death.

Art thou afeard To be the same in thine own act and valour As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life, And live a coward in thine own esteem, Letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would,' Like the poor cat i' the adage?