William Shakespeare Rome Quotations

The moon of Rome, chaste as the icicle that's curded by the frost from purest snow.

All the contagion of the south light on you, You shames of Rome! you herd of--boils and plagues Plaster you o'er; that you may be abhorr'd Further than seen, and one infect another Against the wind a mile!

Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones; Who, though they cannot answer my distress, Yet in some sort they are better than the tribunes, For that they will not intercept my tale: When I do weep, they humbly at my feet Receive my tears and seem to weep with me; And, were they but attired in grave weeds, Rome could afford no tribune like to these.

These cardinals trifle with me; I abhor; This dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome.

I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman.

Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more.