Romans, countrymen, and lovers, hear me for my cause, and be silent, that you may hear.

Farewell, a long farewell to all my greatness! This is the state of man: today he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, tomorrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him: The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And - when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a-ripening - nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.

The common curse of mankind, folly and ignorance, be thine in great revenue!

Can one desire too much of a good thing?

O time, thou must untangle this, not I. It is too hard a knot for me t'untie.

All things that are, are with more spirit chased than enjoyed.

Love is merely a madness.