Julius Caesar Brutus Quotes

The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves.

Men at some time are masters of their fates. The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings.

Et tu, Brute?

Caesar had his Brutus, Charles the First his Cromwell; and George the Third — ['Treason!' cried the Speaker] — may profit by their example. If this be treason, make the most of it.

As they spoke, the only thing I could think about was that scene from Julius Caesar where Brutus stabs him in the back. Et tu, Eric?

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him; The evil that men do lives after them, The good is oft interred with their bones, So let it be with Caesar ... The noble Brutus Hath told you Caesar was ambitious: If it were so, it was a grievous fault, And grievously hath Caesar answered it ... Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest, (For Brutus is an honourable man; So are they all; all honourable men) Come I to speak in Caesar's funeral ... He was my friend, faithful and just to me: But Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honourable man…. He hath brought many captives home to Rome, Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill: Did this in Caesar seem ambitious? When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept: Ambition should be made of sterner stuff: Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honourable man. You all did see that on the Lupercal I thrice presented him a kingly crown, Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition? Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And, sure, he is an honourable man. I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, But here I am to speak what I do know. You all did love him once, not without cause: What cause withholds you then to mourn for him? O judgement! thou art fled to brutish beasts, And men have lost their reason…. Bear with me; My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar, And I must pause till it come back to me

For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar's angel: Judge, O you gods, how dearly Caesar loved him! This was the most unkindest cut of all

Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world Like a Colossus, and we petty men Walk under his huge legs and peep about To find ourselves dishonorable graves. Men at some time are masters of their fates. The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars But in ourselves, that we are underlings.

Caesar, Now be still, I killed not thee with half so good a will"?

Is it physical To walk unbraced and suck up the humors Of the dank morning? What, is Brutus sick, And will he steal out of his wholesome bed To dare the vile contagion of the night?

Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face? Brutus. No, Cassius; for the eye sees not itself, 140 But by reflection, by some other things.

Fates, we will know your pleasures: That we shall die, we know; 'tis but the time And drawing days out, that men stand upon.

And as he plucked his cursed steel away, Mark how the blood of Caesar followed it, As rushing out of doors, to be resolved If Brutus unkindly knocked or no.

But Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honourable man….

If then that friend demand why Brutus rose against Caesar, this is my answer: not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more.

But yesterday the word of Caesar might Have stood against the world; now lies he there. And none so poor to do him reverence. O masters, if I were disposed to stir Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage, I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong, Who, you all know, are honourable men: I will not do them wrong; I rather choose To wrong the dead, to wrong myself and you, Than I will wrong such honourable men. But here's a parchment with the seal of Caesar; I found it in his closet, 'tis his will: Let but the commons hear this testament-- Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read-- And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds And dip their napkins in his sacred blood, Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, And, dying, mention it within their wills, Bequeathing it as a rich legacy Unto their issue.

Everyone in this tale has a rock-solid hamartia: hers, that she is so sick; yours, that you are so well. Were she better or you sicker, then the stars would not be so terribly crossed, but it is the nature of stars to cross, and never was Shakespeare more wrong than when he had Cassius, "The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves.

First, take a deep breath. Assume Shakespeare’s account is accurate and Julius Caesar gasped “You too, Brutus” before breathing his last. What are the chances you just inhaled a molecule which Caesar exhaled in his dying breath? The surprising answer is that, with probability better than 99 percent, you did just inhale such a molecule.

I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, But here I am to speak what I do know. You all did love him once, not without cause: What cause withholds you then, to mourn for him? O judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts, And men have lost their reason. Bear with me; My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar, And I must pause till it come back to me.

What did you enact? POLONIUS: I did enact Julius Caesar; I was kill'd i' the Capitol; Brutus killed me. HAMLET: It was a brute part of him to kill so capital a calf there.

Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honourable man.

Be patient till the last. Romans, countrymen, and lovers! hear me for my cause, and be silent, that you may hear: believe me for mine honour, and have respect to mine honour, that you may believe: censure me in your wisdom, and awake your senses, that you may the better judge. If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of Caesar's, to him I say, that Brutus' love to Caesar was no less than his. If then that friend demand why Brutus rose against Caesar, this is my answer: --Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Caesar were living and die all slaves, than that Caesar were dead, to live all free men? As Caesar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honour him: but, as he was ambitious, I slew him. There is tears for his love; joy for his fortune; honour for his valour; and death for his ambition. Who is here so base that would be a bondman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so rude that would not be a Roman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so vile that will not love his country? If any, speak; for him have I offended. I pause for a reply.

it physical To walk unbraced and suck up the humors Of the dank morning? What, is Brutus sick, And will he steal out of his wholesome bed To dare the vile contagion of the night?” --William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar

Is it physical To walk unbraced and suck up the humors Of the dank morning? What, is Brutus sick, And will he steal out of his wholesome bed To dare the vile contagion of the night?” --William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar

Julius Caesar is an ambivalent study of civil conflict. As in Richard II, the play is structured around two protagonists rather than one. Cesar and Brutus are more alike one another than either would care to admit. This antithetical balance reflects a dual tradition: the medieval view of Dante and Chaucer condemning Brutus and Cassius as conspirators, and the Renaissance view of Sir Philip Sidney and Ben Johnson condemning Caesar as tyrant. Those opposing views still live on in various 20th-century productions which seek to enlist them play on the side of conservatism or liberalism.

If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. You all do know this mantle: I remember The first time ever Caesar put it on; 'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent, That day he overcame the Nervii: Look, in this place ran Cassius' dagger through: See what a rent the envious Casca made: Through this well-beloved Brutus stabb'd; And as he pluck'd his cursed steel away, Mark how the blood of Caesar follow'd it, As rushing out of doors, to be resolved If Brutus so unkindly knock'd, or no; For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar's angel: Judge, O you gods, how dearly Caesar loved him! This was the most unkindest cut of all; For when the noble Caesar saw him stab, Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms, Quite vanquishi'd him: then burst his mighty heart; And, in his mantle muffling up his face, Even at the base of Pompey's statua, Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell.

Brutus, a young man, over the fleet and those Gallic vessels which he had ordered to be furnished by the Pictones and the Santoni, and the other provinces which remained at peace; and commands him to proceed towards the Veneti, as soon as he could. He himself hastens thither with the land forces.

Marcus Brutus was the original tragic hero of the play ‘Julius Caesar’, Aditya concluded. Perhaps, Shakespeare should have named his play ‘Marcus Brutus’. But then again, it all must have boiled down to saleability and marketing; Julius Caesar being the more famous and thus bankable name. Ironical it was, Aditya smiled. The same Shakespeare had once said-‘What’s in a name...

Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world like a colossus, and we petty men walk under his huge legs and peep about to find ourselves dishonourable graves. Men at some time are masters of their fates: the fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings. Brutus and Caesar: what should be in that 'Caesar'? Why should that name be sounded more than yours?

There is a premium on conformity, and on silence. Enthusiasm is frowned upon, since it is likely to be noisy. The Admiral had caught a few kids who came to school before class, eager to practice on the typewriters. He issued a manifesto forbidding any students in the building before 8:20 or after 3:00—outside of school hours, students are "unauthorized." They are not allowed to remain in a classroom unsupervised by a teacher. They are not allowed to linger in the corridors. They are not allowed to speak without raising a hand. They are not allowed to feel too strongly or to laugh too loudly. Yesterday, for example, we were discussing "The fault, dear Brutus, lies not in our stars/ But in ourselves that we are underlings." I had been trying to relate Julius Caesar to their own experiences. Is this true? I asked. Are we really masters of our fate? Is there such a thing as luck? A small boy in the first row, waving his hand frantically: "Oh, call on me, please, please call on me!" was propelled by the momentum of his exuberant arm smack out of his seat and fell on the floor. Wild laughter. Enter McHabe. That afternoon, in my letter-box, it had come to his attention that my "control of the class lacked control.

Mitbürger! Freunde! Römer! hört mich an: Begraben will ich Cäsarn, nicht ihn preisen. Was Menschen Übles tun, das überlebt sie, Das Gute wird mit ihnen oft begraben. So sei es auch mit Cäsarn! Der edle Brutus Hat euch gesagt, daß er voll Herrschsucht war; Und war er das, so war's ein schwer Vergehen, Und schwer hat Cäsar auch dafür gebüßt. Hier, mit des Brutus Willen und der andern (Denn Brutus ist ein ehrenwerter Mann, Das sind sie alle, alle ehrenwert), Komm ich, bei Cäsars Leichenzug zu reden. Er war mein Freund, war mir gerecht und treu; Doch Brutus sagt, daß er voll Herrschsucht war, Und Brutus ist ein ehrenwerter Mann. Er brachte viel Gefangne heim nach Rom, Wofür das Lösegeld den Schatz gefüllt. Sah das der Herrschsucht wohl am Cäsar gleich? Wenn Arme zu ihm schrien, so weinte Cäsar; Die Herrschsucht sollt aus härterm Stoff bestehn. Doch Brutus sagt, daß er voll Herrschsucht war, Und Brutus ist ein ehrenwerter Mann. Ihr alle saht, wie am Lupercusfest Ich dreimal ihm die Königskrone bot, Die dreimal er geweigert. War das Herrschsucht? Doch Brutus sagt, daß er voll Herrschsucht war, Und ist gewiß ein ehrenwerter Mann. Ich will, was Brutus sprach, nicht widerlegen; Ich spreche hier von dem nur, was ich weiß. Ihr liebtet all ihn einst nicht ohne Grund; Was für ein Grund wehrt euch, um ihn zu trauern? O Urteil, du entflohst zum blöden Vieh, Der Mensch ward unvernünftig! – Habt Geduld! Mein Herz ist in dem Sarge hier beim Cäsar, Und ich muß schweigen, bis es mir zurückkommt.

Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up To such a sudden flood of mutiny. They that have done this deed are honourable: What private griefs they have, alas, I know not, That made them do it: they are wise and honourable, And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you. I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts: I am no orator, as Brutus is; But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man, That love my friend; and that they know full well That gave me public leave to speak of him: For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, To stir men's blood: I only speak right on; I tell you that which you yourselves do know; Show you sweet Caesar's wounds, poor poor dumb mouths, And bid them speak for me: but were I Brutus, And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony Would ruffle up your spirits and put a tongue In every wound of Caesar that should move The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny. Yet hear me, countrymen; yet hear me speak. Why, friends, you go to do you know not what: Wherein hath Caesar thus deserved your loves? Alas, you know not: I must tell you then: You have forgot the will I told you of. Here is the will, and under Caesar's seal. To every Roman Plebeian he gives, To every several man, seventy-five drachmas. Moreover, he hath left you all his walks, His private arbours and new-planted orchards, On this side Tiber; he hath left them you, And to your heirs for ever, common pleasures, To walk abroad, and recreate yourselves. Here was a Caesar! when comes such another?

Kneel not, gentle Portia. Portia: I should need not, if you were gentle Brutus. Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus, Is it excepted I should know no secrets That appertain to you? Am I yourself But, as it were, in sort or limitation, To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed, And talk to you sometimes? Dwell I but in the suburbs Of your good pleasure? If it be no more, Portia is Brutus' harlot, not his wife.

Some would say it hardly mattered what women thought of Tavius, that even senators' wives, like Mucia, had no power to shape events. But what if Portia, Brutus's beloved wife, rather than encouraging his plan to assassinate Julius Caesar, had told him he would pointlessly destroy himself and others? I think Portia might have changed history.

They were doing what they thought they had to do. Their intentions were as good as those of most political and religious purists. In the time of Julius Caesar, Brutus was known as the most moral man in Rome. Whenever we think of what he did and of what then became of him, we are reminded that unduly virtuous men can be as great a danger to themselves and their own causes as they are to their adversaries.

The American politician William Jennings Bryan said, ‘Destiny is not a matter of chance; it is a matter of choice. It is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved.’ In similar vein, Shakespeare (in his play Julius Caesar) said ‘Men are at some time masters of their fates; The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves…

Men at some time are masters of their fates: The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings. —Julius Caesar by William Shakespeare, Act I, Scene III

What made  Brutus to assassinate Caesar in the play 'Julius Caesar'. The reason for all these queries are one.....their mind as completely under the control of the two doshas related to the mind....'rajas' and 'tamas'. As these doshas covered up their mind, their intellect (buddhi) was not able to distinguish between what is wrong and and what is right. Thus their action ended up in their own destruction.

The two men that agitated for the death of Julius Caesar more than any others were Senators Marcus Junius Brutus and Gaius Cassius Longinus, better known to Shakespeareans as the diabolical Brutus and Cassius.

Men at some time are masters of their fates: The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings. —Julius Caesar by William Shakespeare, Act I, Scene III CHAPTER SIXTEEN Hands on Fallon’s shoulders, Eddie drew back, his eyes damp as he studied her face.

«Los hombres en ocasiones son amos de sus destinos: El error, querido Brutus, no está en nuestras estrellas, Sino en nosotros, que somos subordinados». --William Shakespeare Julius Caesar

Julius Caesar once said of Brutus that ‘whatever he wants, he wants badly’ and nowhere is that more clear than in this episode – a shock to anyone familiar only with Shakespeare’s ‘noblest Roman of them all’.

Forever and forever, farewell, John Milholland / If we do meet again, why, we shall smile / If not, why then, this parting was well made”: lines spoken by Brutus to Cassius in act 5, scene 1, of Julius Caesar. He aced the test.

The evil that men do lives after them; To be immortal, learn that lesson well. —MARC ANTONY, at the execution of Brutus The Revenge of Julius Caesar,

One he was especially attracted to was Brutus’s words in Julius Caesar: ‘There is a tide in the affairs of men. Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.

My name is Brutus and my name means heavy, so with a heavy heart, I'll guide this dagger into the heart of my enemy.

Villicus Vadum: Soldier Of Fortune by Stewart Stafford I am the ghost of lupine Romulus, Founder of Rome, hear my tale, Of Villicus Vadum - young, driven, Steward to Senator Lucius Flavius. Villicus wanted Flavia, the senator’s daughter, But she was betrothed to Marcus Brutus; A consul of noble and virtuous stock, Villicus conspired to take Flavia's hand. Treachery and deception were his tools, Knavish peacock of Rome's epic stage, Sought to take Flavia from Marcus Brutus, To snatch and cage his treasured gem. Bribed a false soothsayer to trap her, Believing her beloved began with V, Flavia agreed to elope with him to Gaul, With Brutus vowing deadly vengeance. Fleeing to the bosom of Rome's enemy - Vercingetorix, at war with Julius Caesar, Villicus offered to spy on the Senate, While plotting to seize Gaul's throne. Queen Verica also caught his eye, Villicus was captured by Mark Antony, Taken to Caesar's camp as a traitor; Brutus challenged him to a duel. Brutus slashed him but spared his life, They dragged Villicus to Rome in chains, To try him for his now infamous crimes; Cicero in defence, Cato as prosecutor. Cicero argued Villicus acted out of love, And that his ambition merited mercy, Cato wanted death for his wicked threat, Julius Caesar pondered a final verdict. Villicus - pardoned but banished from Rome, Immediate death if he returned to Flavia, Villicus kissed the emperor's foot for naught, Flavia refused to join him in fallen exile. Now learn from this outcast's example, friends, That I, Romulus, warn you to avoid at your peril, Villicus Vadum, the wrath of the gods upon him, Until time ceases, sole spectre of night's edge. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.

The Diverted Imperium by Stewart Stafford Welcome to my lush vineyard, As we crush poison grapes, Forcing that last vinegar sip, Of this “first citizen’s” foul wine. In spite of meeting in night's shade, It is not the taint of shame's veil, But a new dawning concealed, Our hand to reveal in due course. Fellow senators, my brethren! Men of honour, and, you, Brutus; The noblest of all at our gathering, But your eyes are on yonder hill. Our dreamer’s conference tonight: Seeks sacrifice, not bloodlust; A fly caught in Necessity’s web, And, is no more, for that is Nature. Stakes of the bear pit arranged, A swift consumption of power, Nipping retaliation in the bud, Smoothing our ascendancy. A patriot in a traitor's pall? Liberty's stars in alignment Or noose of the ill-omened? History’s verdict in absentia. The hand beneath the cloak Shakes the dagger mightily, Mercy’s coup de grâce stills, Bloody tip to inked treaties. Once the bloodshed has passed, Martial backing shall follow, And our regime commences, The Imperium by right diverted. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.

A soothsayer bids you beware the Ides of March.” —Brutus to Julius Caesar, Act I, Julius Caesar, William Shakespeare, circa 1600

Shakespeare put it this way, in a famous quote from Julius Caesar: “The fault is not in our stars, dear Brutus, but in ourselves.” That’s a clear message. We are responsible for ourselves. We are responsible for our own luck. What an empowering thought! If you see responsibility as a bum deal, then you are not seeing it for what it really is—a great opportunity.

Tapi, aku tak ingin menjadi dekat dengan siapa pun, atau bahkan menpercayainya. Brutus pun bisa membunuh Julius Caesar, bukan? Dan kali ini, aku tak mau menjadi orang yang mengatakan 'et tu Brute?

The tragic end of Julius Caesar, who destroyed the Republic, has never had a deterrent effect on the aspiring dictators who came after him in history! Because dictatorship is a mental illness. Even if you tell a rabid dog not to bite, it will still bite because it is sick, rabies is a disease, dictatorship is a disease! Once you give authority to the dictator, you can't take it back. If you don’t want to destroy him like Brutus, never give him authority, this way you will save his life and the lives of others! The most humane cure for dictatorship is not to give it authority!