What, gone without a word? Ay, so true love should do; it cannot speak, For truth hath better deeds than words to grace it.
Fear no more the heat o the sun, nor the furious winter's rages. Thou thy worldly task hast done, home art gone and taken thy wages.
No evil lost is wailed when it is gone.
All his successors gone before him have done 't; and all his ancestors that come after him may.
But love that comes too late, Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried, To the great sender turns a sour offense, Crying, 'That's good that's gone.
O the world is but a word; were it all yours to give it in a breath, how quickly were it gone!
Let us not burden our remembrances with a heaviness that's gone.
The ides of March are come. Soothsayer: Ay, Caesar; but not gone.
Unbidden guests Are often welcomest when they are gone.
She's gone. I am abused, and my relief must be to loathe her.
She's good, being gone.
Winter's not gone yet, if the wild geese fly that way.
We are time's subjects, and time bids be gone.
I feel it gone, yet know not when it left.
I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
He is dead and gone, lady, He is dead and gone; At his head a grass-green turf, At his heels a stone.