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A Dish Fit For The Gods. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Julius Caesar -- Act Ii, Sc.
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A dish fit for the gods.
-- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Julius Caesar
-- Act ii, Sc. 1
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With an angry wafture of your hand, Gave sign for me to leave you.
-- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Julius Caesar -- Act ii, Sc. 1...
As proper men as ever trod upon neat's leather. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Julius Caesar -- Act i, Sc.
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Cry "Havoc," and let slip the dogs of war. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Julius Caesar -- Act iii, Sc.
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Et tu, Brute! -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Julius Caesar -- Act iii, Sc. 1
The choice and master spirits of this age. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Julius Caesar -- Act iii, Sc.
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The live-long day. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Julius Caesar -- Act i, Sc. 1
Though last, not least in love. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Julius Caesar -- Act iii, Sc.
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Caes. The ides of March are come. Sooth. Ay, Caesa
but not gone. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Julius Caesar -- Act iii, Sc. 1...
Think you I am no stronger than my sex, Being so father'd and so husbanded?
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