Not That I Loved Caesar Less, But

Eternity Was In Our Lips And Eyes.

When Our Actions Do Not, Our Fears Make Us Traitors.

Though I Look Old, Yet I Am Strong And Lusty; For In My Youth I Never Did Apply Hot And Rebellious Liquors In My Blood; And Did Not, With Unbashful Forehead, Woo The Means Of Weakness And Debility: Therefore My Age Is As A Lusty Winter, Frosty But Kindly.

Words Are Easy, Like The Wind; Faithful Friends Are Hard To Find.

Thou Ominous And Fearful Owl Of Death.