All the world's a stage

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. 

Titus Andronicus

LUCIUS

[...]

My scars can witness, dumb although they are,
That my report is just and full of truth.
But, soft! methinks I do digress to much,
Citing my worthless praise: O, pardon me;
For when no friends are by, men praise themselves.

(Act V. Scene III)

Hamlet

HAMLET

[...]

- Meu caro senhor, sabereis providenciar para que os actores fiquem bem instalados? Cuidai de que sejam bem tratados, pois são a crónica breve e epítome dos tempos. Melhor é terdes um mau epitáfio depois da morte que retrato adverso seu enquanto vivo.

Julius Caesar

MARCUS BRUTUS

Grant that, and then death is a benefit:
So are we Caesar's friends, that have abridged
His time of fearing death. - Stoop, Romans, stoop,
And let us bathe our hands in Caesar's blood
Up to the elbows, and besmear our swords:
The walk we forth, even to the market-place,
And, waving our red weapons o'er our heads,
Let's all cry, 'Peace, freedom and liberty!'

CASSIUS

Stoop then, and wash. - How man ages hence
Shall this our lofty scene be acted over
In states unborn and accents yet unknown!

MARCUS BRUTUS

How many times shall Caesar bleed in sport,
That now on Pompey's basis lies along
No worthier than the dust!

CASSIUS

So oft as that shall be,
So often shall the knotof us be call'd
The men that gave their country liberty.

(3.1.102-118)