the time of life is short; To spend that shortness basely were too long.
Within the book and volume of thy brain.
O heaven! that one might read the book of fate, and see the revolution of the times.
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.
Rumour doth double, like the voice and echo, The numbers of the feared.
Thy words, I grant are bigger, for I wear not, my dagger in my mouth.