Et Tu Brute! (you Too, Brutus!)

The Moon Shines Bright. In Such A Night As This. When The Sweet Wind Did Gently Kiss The Trees And They Did Make No Noise, In Such A Night.

Promising Is The Very Air O' Th' Time; It Opens The Eyes Of Expectation. Performance Is Ever Duller For His Act; And, But In The Plainer And Simpler Kind Of People, The Deed Of Saying Is Quite Out Of Use. To Promise Is Most Courtly And Fashionable; Performance Is A Kind Of Will Or Testament Which Argues A Great Sickness In His Judgment That Makes It.

Small To Greater Matters Must Give Way.

Why, What Is Pomp, Rule, Reign, But Earth And Dust? And, Live We How We Can, Yet Die We Must.

There's Hope A Great Man's Memory May Outlive His Life Half A Year.