When beggars die, there are no comets seen; the heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes. - William Shakespeare

I wasted time, and now doth time waste me;
For now hath time made me his numbering clock:
My thoughts are minutes; and with sighs they jar
Their watches on unto mine eyes, the outward watch,
Whereto my finger, like a dial's point,
Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears.
Now sir, the sound that tells what hour it is
Are clamorous groans, which strike upon my heart,
Which is the bell: so sighs and tears and groans
Show minutes, times, and hours.

Romeo, Romeo. Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name.

How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a weary world.