Et tu Brute! Then fall, Cæsar!
I can suck melancholy out of a song.
The smallest worm will turn being trodden on,And doves will peck in safeguard of their brood.
Which of them shall I take?Both? one? or neither? Neither can be enjoy'd,If both remain alive.
I charge thee, invite them all; let in the tideOf knaves once more: my cook and I'll provide.
Portia: To offend, and judge, are distinct officesAnd of opposed natures.
The man who pauses on the paths of treason,Halts on a quicksand, the first step engulfs him.
Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep;And in his simple show he harbours treason.
Some guard these traitors to the block of death;Treason's true bed and yielder up of breath.
Hast thou betrayed my credulous innocenceWith vizor'd falsehood and base forgery?
Treason doth never prosper: what's the reason?Why, if it prosper, none dare call it treason.
He [Cæsar] loved the treason, but hated the traitor.
Judas had given them the slip.
The last temptation is the greatest treason: to do the right deed for the wrong reason.
For while the treason I detest,The traitor still I love.
Treason is a charge invented by winners as an excuse for hanging the losers.
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