Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear

You pay a great deal too dear for what's given freely

The fault, dear Brutus, lies not in our stars, but in ourselves if we are underlings.

I know not how to tell thee who I am. My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, because it’s an enemy to thee.

Love give me strength, and strength will help me through. Goodbye, dear father.

Sweets grown common lose their dear delight