The coward dies a thousand deaths, the valiant, only once!

It is as easy to count atomies as to resolve the propositions of a lover.

A man can die but once.

Sweet recreation barred, what doth ensue but moody and dull melancholy, kinsman to grim and comfortless despair.

I were better to be eaten to death with a rust than to be scoured to nothing with perpetual motion.

IAGO: She that was ever fair and never proud, Had tongue at will and yet was never loud, Never lack'd gold and yet went never gay, Fled from her wish and yet said 'Now I may,' She that being anger'd, her revenge being nigh, Bade her wrong stay and her displeasure fly, She that in wisdom never was so frail To change the cod's head for the salmon's tail; She that could think and ne'er disclose her mind, See suitors following and not look behind, She was a wight, if ever such wight were,-- DESDEMONA: To do what? IAGO: To suckle fools and chronicle small beer.

What my tongue dares not that my heart shall say