The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings.[Also known as:]It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.
The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones.
The empty vessel makes the greatest sound.
The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.
The course of true love never did run smooth.
The common curse of mankind, folly and ignorance.
The blood more stirs To rouse a lion than to start a hare!
The attempt, and not the deed, Confounds us.
The art of our necessities is strange, that can make vile things precious.
The apparel oft proclaims the man.
That’s a valiant flea that dare eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion.
That you were made of is metal to make virgins. Virginity, by being once lost, may be ten times found: by being ever kept, it is ever lost. ’Tis too cold a companion: away with ’t!
