Done to death by slanderous tongue

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.

Sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye.

Of all base passions, fear is the most accursed.

No doubt they rose up early to observe the rite of May; and, hearing our intent, Came here in grace of our solemnity.

Unless hours were cups of sack, and minutes capons, and clocks the tongues of bawds, and dials the signs of leaping-houses, and the blessed sun himself a fair hot wench in flame-colored taffeta, I see no reason why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand the time of the day.

As chaste as unsunned snow.