Beware The Ides Of March.

He That Sleeps Feels Not The Tooth-ache

Bassanio: Do All Men Kill All The Things They Do Not Love? Shylock: Hates Any Man The Thing He Would Not Kill? Bassanio: Every Offence Is Not A Hate At First.

Now The Melancholy God Protect Thee, And The Tailor Make Thy Garments Of Changeable Taffeta, For Thy Mind Is Opal.

Strikes Deeper, Grows With More Pernicious Root.

The Best Quarrels, In The Heat, Are Cursed By Those That Feel Their Sharpness.