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If we are marked to die, we are enough to do our country loss; and if to live, the fewer men, the greater share of honor.
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I must be cruel only to be kind; Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind.
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Now cracks a noble heart. Good night sweet prince And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest
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Do not speak like a death's-head, do not bid me remember mine end.
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No, 'tis slander, Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongue Outvenoms all the worms of Nile, whose breath Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie All corners of the world.
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