In Struggling With Misfortunes Lies The True

The Ides Of March Are Come. Soothsayer: Ay, Caesar; But Not Gone.

When Griping Grief The Heart Doth Wound, And Doleful Dumps The Mind Opresses, Then Music, With Her Silver Sound, With Speedy Help Doth Lend Redress.

Of All Base Passions, Fear Is The Most Accursed.

Ever Note, Lucilius, When Love Begins To Sicken And Decay It Useth An Enforced Ceremony. There Are No Tricks In Plain And Simple Faith; But Hollow Men, Like Horses Hot At Hand, Make Gallant Show And Promise Of Their Mettle; But When They Should Endure The Bloody Spur, They Fall Their Crests, And Like Deceitful Jades Sink In The Trial.

I Am The Prince Of Wales; And Think Not, Percy, To Share With Me In Glory Any More: Two Stars Keep Not Their Motion In One Sphere.