To Sleep Perchance To Dream

The Ides Of March Are Come. Soothsayer: Ay, Caesar; But Not Gone.

If It Were Done When 'tis Done, Then 'twere Well. It Were Done Quickly.

I'll Not Meddle With It; It Is A Dangerous Thing; It Makes A Man A Coward; A Man Cannot Steal, But It Accuseth Him; A Man Cannot Swear, But It Checks Him; A Man Cannot Lie With His Neighbor's Wife, But It Detects Him. 'tis A Blushing, Shame -faced Spirit, That Mutinies In A Man's Bosom ; It Fills One Full Of Obstacles; It Made Me Once Restore A Purse Of Gold That By Chance I Found; It Beggars Any Man That Keeps It; It Is Turned Out Of All Towns And Cities For A Dangerous Thing; And Every Man That Means To Live Well Endeavors To Trust To Himself And Live Without It.

Ten Kisses Short As One, One Long As Twenty.

Many Dream Not To Find, Neither Deserve, And Yet Are Steeped In Favors.