Had I a dozen sons, — each in my love alike, and none less dear than thine and my good Marcius, — I had rather had eleven die nobly for their country, than one voluptuously surfeit out of action.
Volumnia, scene iii
If any think brave death outweighs bad life, and that his country's dearer than himself; let him alone, or so many so minded, wave thus, to express his disposition,
Marcius, scene vi
Make you a sword of me?
Marcius, scene vi
Nature teaches beasts to know their friends.
Sicinius, scene i
One that loves a cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tiber in ’t.
Menenius, scene i
God-den to your worships. More of your conversation would infect my brain, being the herdsmen of the beastly plebeians.
Menenius, scene i
Faith, there have been many great men that have flatter'd the people, who ne'er loved them.
Second Officer, scene ii
Let me o'erleap that custom, for I cannot
Put on the gown, stand naked and entreat them,
For my wounds' sake, to give their suffrage
Coriolanus, scene ii
Many-headed multitude.
First Citizen, scene iii
I thank you for your voices, — thank you, — Your most sweet voices.
Third Citizen, quoting Coriolanus, scene iii
Hear you this Triton of the minnows? mark you His absolute shall?
Coriolanus, scene i
Enough, with over-measure.
Brutus, scene i
But now 'tis odds beyond arithmetic; And manhood is call'd foolery, when it stands Against a falling fabric.
Cominius, scene i
His nature is too noble for the world: He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, Or Jove for’s power to thunder.
Menenius, scene i
If it be honour in your wars to seem The same you are not, (which, for your best ends, You adopt your policy) how is it less or worse, That it shall hold companionship in peace With honour, as in war, since that to both It stands in like request?
Voulmnia, scene ii
Action is eloquence.
Voulmnia, scene ii
Anger's my meat; I sup upon myself, And so shall starve with feeding.
Volumnia, Scene ii
O world, thy slippery turns! Friends now fast sworn, Whose double bosoms seems to wear one heart, Whose hours, whose bed, whose meal and exercise Are still together, who twin, as 't were, in love Unseparable, shall within this hour, On a dissension of a doit, break out To bitterest enmity: so, fellest foes, Whose passions and whose plots have broke their sleep To take the one the other, by some chance, Some trick not worth an egg, shall grow dear friends And interjoin their issues. So with me: — My birthplace hate I, and my love's upon This enemy town. — I'll enter: if he slay me, He does fair justice; if he give me way, I'll do his country service.
Coriolanus, scene iv
Third Servant: Where dwellest thou? Coriolanus: Under the canopy.
Scene v
Aufidius: What is thy name? Coriolanus: A name unmusical to the Volscians’ ears, And harsh in sound to thine.
Scene v
Let me have war, say I; it exceeds peace as far as day does night: it's spritely waking, audible, and full of vent. Peace is a very apoplexy, lethargy; mull'd, deaf, sleepy, insensible; a getter of more bastard children than war's a destroyer of men.
First Servant, scene v
I think he'll be to Rome As is the osprey to the fish, who takes it By sovereignty of nature.
Aufidius, Scene vii
I'll never Be such a gosling to obey instinct; but stand, As if a man were author of himself, And knew no other kin.
Coriolanus, scene iii
The noble sister of Publicola, The moon of Rome; chaste as the icicle, That's curded by the frost from purest snow, And hangs on Dian's temple: – dear Valeria!
Coriolanus, scene iii
If you have writ your annals true, ’t is there That, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I Flutter’d your Volscians in Corioli: Alone I did it! Boy!