| Quote | Tragedy Title |
| Let Rome in Tiber melt, and the wide arch of the ranged empire fall! Here is my space. Kingdoms are clay. | |
| You Common Cry of curs! whose breath I hate as reek o' the rotten fens, whose loves I prize as the dead carcasses of unburied men that do corrupt my air, - I banish you | |
| In the most high and palmy state of Rome, a little ere the mightiest Julius fell, the graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets. | |
| Poor Brutus, with himself at war, Forgets the shows of love to other men. | |
| Love is not love when it is mingled with regards that stand aloof from the entire point | |
| The weird sisters, hand in hand, Posters of the sea and land, Thus do go about, about. | |
| But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve For daws to peck at: i am not what I am. | |
| One fire burns out another's burning, One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish. | |
| 'Tis not enough to help the feeble up, But to support him after | |
| She is a woman, therefore may be wooed; She is a woman, therefore may be won; She is Lavinia, therefore must be loved. | |