Beware the Ides of March
Cowards die many times before their deaths;
The valiant never taste of death but once.
Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war!
The evil that men do lives after them,
The good is oft interred with their bones
I love the name of honour more than I fear death
There is a tide in the affairs of men
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune
Death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come.
I am constant as the Northern Star
O judgement! thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason….
He thinks too much; such men are dangerous.
What a terrible era in which idiots govern the blind
– William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar