There's not a note of mine that's worth the noting.
Security is the chief enemy of mortals.
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered- We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother
Things without all remedy should be without regard: what's done is done.
Blow, blow, thou winter wind Thou art not so unkind, As man's ingratitude.
Hear the meaning within the word.