We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. For he today that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother; be never so vile. This day shall gentle his condition. And gentlemen in England now abed shall think themselves accursed they were not here, and hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks that fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

A man loves the meat in his youth that he cannot endure in his age.

Do you set down your name in the scroll of youth, that are written down old with all the characters of age?

Things without remedy, should be without regard; what is done, is done.

We have seen better days.

O, call back yesterday, bid time return.

Lord, Lord, how subject we old men are to this vice of lying!

Nothing can come of nothing.

Some men there are love not a gaping pig, some that are mad if they behold a cat, and others when the bagpipe sings I the nose cannot contain their urine.

Thou art all ice. Thy kindness freezes.