Wherefore I praised the dead which are already dead more than the living which are yet alive.

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.

Oh, ye’ll tak’ the high road an’ I’ll tak’ the low road,
An’ I’ll be in Scotland before ye;
But me and my true love will never meet again,
On the bonnie, bonnie banks o’ Loch Lomond.

We have seen the best of our time: machinations, hollowness, treachery, and all ruinous disorders, follow us disquietly to our graves.

Imperious Caesar, dead and turn’d to clay,
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away.