Well could he ride, and often men would say, "That horse his mettle from his rider takes: Proud of subjection, noble by the sway, What rounds, what bounds, what course, what stop he makes!" And controversy hence a question takes, Whether the horse by him became his deed, Or he his manage by the well-doing steed.
William ShakespeareBut, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
William ShakespeareTalking isn't doing. It is a kind of good deed to say well; and yet words are not deeds.
William ShakespeareCry "havoc!" and let loose the dogs of war, That this foul deed shall smell above the earth With carrion men, groaning for burial.
William Shakespeare