You Cram These Words Into Mine Ears

Brutus, I Do Observe You Now Of Late: I Have Not From Your Eyes That Gentleness And Show Of Love As I Was Wont To Have: You Bear Too Stubborn And Too Strange A Hand Over Your Friend That Loves You. Poor Brutus, With Himself At War, Forgets The Shows Of Love To Other Men.

My Father Compounded With My Mother Under The Dragon's Tail, And My Nativity Was Under Ursa Major, So That It Follows, I Am Roughand Lecherous. Tut, I Should Have Been That I Am, Had The Maidenliest Star In The Firmament Twinkled On My Bastardizing.

The Thane Of Cawdor Lives, A Prosperous Gentleman; And To Be King Stands Not Within The Prospect Of Belief, No More Than To Be Cawdor.

Talkers Are No Good Doers.

Let Me Not To The Marriage Of True Minds