Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.
The ides of March are come. Soothsayer: Ay, Caesar; but not gone.
Diseases desperate grown By desperate appliances are relieved, Or not at all.
To fear the foe, since fear oppresseth strength, gives in your weakness strength unto your foe.
The prince of darkness is a gentleman!
Keep thy foot out of brothels, thy hand out of plackets, thy pen from lender's books, and defy the foul fiend.