One form to rule them all, one form to find them, one form to bring them all and in the darkness rewrite the hell out of them
Thank God men cannot as yet fly and lay waste the sky as well as the earth.
He that dies pays all debts.
A kind
Of excellent dumb discourse.
If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction.
Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale
Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man.
Et tu, Brute!
How many ages hence
Shall this our lofty scene be acted over
In states unborn and accents yet unknown!
Cry Havoc,"" and let slip the dogs of war."
Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears;
I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bones.