Julius Caesar: [after being stabbed by Brutus] Et tu, Brute? Then fall, Caesar!

Julius Caesar: Cowards die many times before their deaths; / The valiant never taste of death but once.

Cassius: [referring to Julius Caesar] And this man is now become a god.

Cassius: The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,/ But in ourselves that we are underlings.

Cassius: Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed that he hath grown so great?

Cassius: Ye gods, it doth amaze me/ A man of such a feeble temper / Should so get the start of the majestic world/And bear the palm alone.

Brutus: Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar/ I have not slept./ Between the acting of a dreadful thing / And the first motion, all the interim is / Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream: / The Genius and the mortal instruments / Are then in council; and the state of man, / Like to a little kingdom, suffers then / The nature of an insurrection.