Cassius: The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings.
Caesar: Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once.
Soothsayer: Beware the ides of March.
Antony: If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.
For Brutus is an honourable man; so are they all, all honourable men.
The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones.
Octavius: So call the field to rest, and let's away
To part the glories of this happy day.
Antony: O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth,
That I am meek and gentle with these butchers!
How many ages hence shall this our lofty scene be acted over in states unborn and accents yet unknown!
Brutus: I did send to you
For certain sums of gold, which you denied me,
For I can raise no money by vile means.