A Light Wife Doth Make A Heavy

Cowards Die Many Times Before Their Deaths; The Valiant Never Taste Of Death But Once.

Every Subject's Duty Is The King's; But Every Subject's Soul Is His Own. Therefore, Should Every Soldier In The Wars Do As Every Sick Man In His Bed, Wash Every Mote Out Of His Conscience; And Dying So, Death Is To Him Advantage; Or Not Dying, The Time Was Blessedly Lost Wherein Such Preparation Was Gained; And In Him That Escapes, It Were No Sin To Think That, Making God So Free An Offer, He Let Him Outlive The Day To See His Greatness And To Teach Others How They Should Prepare.

The Quality Of Mercy Is Not Strained

O Excellent! I Love Long Life Better Than Figs.

Brutus, I Do Observe You Now Of Late: I Have Not From Your Eyes That Gentleness And Show Of Love As I Was Wont To Have: You Bear Too Stubborn And Too Strange A Hand Over Your Friend That Loves You. Poor Brutus, With Himself At War, Forgets The Shows Of Love To Other Men.