“Leave the fishing-rod, Great General, to us sovereigns of Pharos and Canopus. Your game is cities and kings and continents.”

Nothing could part us in life, but now in death we are likely to change places, you the Roman lying here in Egyptian soil, and I, helpless woman that I am, being buried in Italy.

All strange and terrible events are welcome, but comforts we despise.

Is he a good man?” “Define ‘good’.

I will not be triumphed over.

In praising Antony I have dispraised Caesar.

My honour was not yielded, but conquered merely.

Be it known that we, the greatest, are misthought.

Fool! Don’t you see now that I could have poisoned you a hundred times had I been able to live without you.

And make death proud to take us.

There must be 50 ways to leave your lover.

did not leave us with the proofs of the theorems he discovered.

I like both of them as a person and I love Mayweather as a boxer so I leave it up to them to handle.

The trouble with leaving your feet on the ground is you never get to take your pants off.

When diving to attack always leave a proportion of your formation above to act as top guard.

On the other hand, I also recognize fully and live by the principle that once the work leaves my studio, I cannot control the effects it has.

And leave in a prominent point of view the general facts, by virtue of which society exists and is preserved.

I found Rome built of bricks; I leave her clothed in marble.