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That Strain Again! It Had A Dying Fall: O, It Came O'er My Ear Like The Sweet Sound That Breathes Upon A Bank Of Violets, Stealing And Giving Odour! Enough; No More: 'tis Not So Sweet As It Was Before.

-William Shakespeare

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That Strain Again! It

William Shakespeare

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That Strain Again! It Had A Dying Fall: O, It Came O'er My Ear Like The Sweet Sound That Breathes Upon A Bank Of Violets, Stealing And Giving Odour! Enough; No More: 'tis Not So Sweet As It Was Before.

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More From William Shakespeare

Neither My Place, Nor Aught I Heard Of Business, Hath Raised Me From My Bed; Nor Doth The General Care Take Hold On Me; For My Particular Grief Is Of So Floodgate And O'erbearing Nature That It Engluts And Swallows Other Sorrows, And It Is Still Itself.

Man And Wife, Being Two, Are One In Love.

God Send Everyone Their Heart's Desire!

There Is Some Soul Of Goodness In Things Evil, Would Men Observingly Distill It Out.

Conscience Is A Blushing, Shamefaced Spirit Than Mutinies In A Man's Bosom; It Fills One Full Of Obstacles.

The Silence Often Of Pure Innocence Persuades When Speaking Fails.

He Is The Half Part Of A Blessed Man, Left To Be Finished By Such As She; And She A Fair Divided Excellence, Whose Fullness Of Perfection Lies In Him.

Beware The Leader Who Bangs The Drums Of War In Order To Whip The Citizenry Into A Patriotic Fervor.

If Thou Dost Marry, I'll Give Thee This Plague For Thy Dowry: Be Thou As Chaste As Ice, As Pure As Snow, Thou Shalt Not Escape Calumny.

Those That Do Teach Young Babes Do It With Gentle Means And Easy Tasks.

My Nature Is Subdued To What It Works In, Like The Dyer's Hand.

A Politician... One That Would Circumvent God.

Ay, But To Die And Go We Know Not Where; To Lie In Cold Obstrution And To Rot; This Sensible Warm Motion To Become A Kneaded Clod; And The Delighted Spirit To Bathe In Fiery Floods Or To Reside In Thrilling Regions Of Thick-ribbed Ice; To Be Imprison'd In The Viewless Winds, And Blown With Restless Violence Round About The Pendant World.

What Win I, If I Gain The Thing I Seek? A Dream, A Breath, A Froth Of Fleeting Joy. Who Buys A Minute's Mirth To Wail A Week? Or Sells Eternity To Get A Toy? For One Sweet Grape Who Will The Vine Destroy? Or What Fond Beggar, But To Touch The Crown, Would With The Sceptre Straight Be Strucken Down?

The Time Is Out Of Joint : O Cursed Spite, That Ever I Was Born To Set It Right!

Hamlet And Ophelia

That Which Hath Made Them Drunk Hath Made Me Bold; What Hath Quenched Them Hath Given Me Fire.

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 'twere, 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.

She Speaks Poniards, And Every Word Stabs.

If We Are True To Ourselves, We Can Not Be False To Anyone.

There Are A Sort Of Men, Whose Visages Do Cream And Mantle, Like A Standing Pond; And Do A Willful Stillness Entertain, With Purpose To Be Dressed In An Opinion Of Wisdom, Gravity Profound Conceit; As Who Should Say, I Am Sir Oracle, And When I Ope My Lips, Let No Dog Bark!

Headstrong Liberty Is Lashed With Woe.

For What Good Turn? Messenger: For The Best Turn Of The Bed.

When To The Sessions Of Sweet Silent Thought I Summon Up Remembrance Of Things Past, I Sigh The Lack Of Many A Thing I Sought.

Sit By My Side, And Let The World Slip: We Shall Ne'er Be Younger.

In Peace There's Nothing So Becomes A Man As Modest Stillness And Humility: But When The Blast Of War Blows In Our Ears, Then Imitate The Action Of The Tiger; Stiffen The Sinews, Summon Up The Blood, Disguise Fair Nature With Hard-favour'd Rage; Then Lend The Eye A Terrible Aspect; . . . . Now Set The Teeth And Stretch The Nostril Wide, Hold Hard The Breath And Bend Up Every Spirit To His Full Height. On, On, You Noblest English.

A Lion Among Ladies Is A Most Dreadful Thing.

You Are Not Wood, You Are Not Stones, But Men; And Being Men, Hearing The Will Of Caesar, It Will Inflame You, It Will Make You Mad.

But Wherefore Could Not I Pronounce 'amen'? I Had Most Need Of Blessing, And 'amen' Stuck In My Throat.

Confess Yourself To Heaven, Repent What's Past, Avoid What Is To Come, And Do Not Spread The Compost On The Weeds To Make Them Ranker.

My Stronger Guilt Defeats My Strong Intent.

The Proverb Is Something Musty.

For Some Must Watch, While Some Must Sleep So Runs The World Away

Th Abuse Of Greatness Is When It Disjoins Remorse From Power.

What Cannot Be Saved When Fate Takes, Patience Her Injury A Mockery Makes

I Had Rather Live With Cheese And Garlic In A Windmill.

I Am Not In The Roll Of Common Men.

Some Say That Ever 'gainst The Season Comes Wherein Our Saviour's Birth Is Celebrated, The Bird Of Dawning Singeth All Night Long: And Then, They Say, No Spirit Can Walk Abroad; The Nights Are Wholesome; Then No Planets Strike, No Fairy Takes, Nor Wi

I Had Rather Be A Toad, And Live Upon The Vapor Of A Dungeon Than Keep A Corner In The Thing I Love For Others Uses.

The Devil Can Cite Scripture For His Purpose.

Our Praises Are Our Wages.

Come Away, Come Away, Death, And In Sad Cypress Let Me Be Laid; Fly Away, Fly Away, Breath, I Am Slain By A Fair Cruel Maid. My Shroud Of White Stuck All With Yew, O Prepare It! My Part Of Death No One So True Did Share It. Not A Flower, Not A Flower Sweet, On My Black Coffin Let There Be Strewn: Not A Friend, Not A Friend Greet My Poor Corpse, Where My Bones Shall Be Thrown. A Thousand Thousand Sighs To Save, Lay Me O Where Sad True Lover Never Find My Grave, To Weep There!

Tell Them, That, To Ease Them Of Their Griefs, Their Fear Of Hostile Strokes, Their Aches, Losses, Their Pangs Of Love, With Other Incident Throes That Nature's Fragile Vessel Doth Sustain In Life's Uncertain Voyage, I Will Some Kindness Do Them.

Do You Bite Your Thumb At Us, Sir?

Romeo And Juliet Love

A Little Fire Is Quickly Trodden Out, Which, Being Suffer'd, Rivers Cannot Quench.

Can One Desire Too Much Of A Good Thing?

It Is Great Sin To Swear Unto A Sin, But Greater Sin To Keep A Sinful Oath.

Be As Just And Gracious Unto Me, As I Am Confident And Kind To Thee.

Kent. Where's The King? Gent. Contending With The Fretful Elements; Bids The Wind Blow The Earth Into The Sea, Or Swell The Curled Waters 'bove The Main, That Things Might Change Or Cease; Tears His White Hair, Which The Impetuous Blasts, With Eyeless Rage, Catch In Their Fury And Make Nothing Of; Strives In His Little World Of Man To Outscorn The To-and-fro-conflicting Wind And Rain. This Night, Wherein The Cub-drawn Bear Would Couch, The Lion And The Belly-pinched Wolf Keep Their Fur Dry, Unbonneted He Runs, And Bids What Will Take All.

This Blessed Plot, This Earth, This Realm, This England.

Precious Stones

Paradise On Earth

Affliction May One Day Smile Again; And Till Then, Sit Thee Down, Sorrow!.

Nature Does Require Her Time Of Preservation, Which Perforce, I Her Frail Son Amongst My Brethren Mortal, Must Give My Attendance To.

The More Pity, That Fools May Not Speak Wisely What Wise Men Do Foolishly.

Funny Inspirational

To Move Is To Stir, And To Be Valiant Is To Stand; Therefore, If Tou Art Mov'd, Thou Runst Away. (to Be Angry Is To Move, To Be Brave Is To Stand Still. Therefore, If You're Angry, You'll Run Away.)

Methought I Was Enamour'd Of An Ass.

A Fool, A Fool! I Met A Fool I' Th' Forest, A Motley Fool! A Miserable World! As I Do Live By Food, I Met A Fool Who Laid Him Down And Basked Him In The Sun And Railed On Lady Fortune In Good Terms, In Good Set Terms, And Yet A Motley Fool.

Women May Fail When There Is No Strength In Man

If Music Be The Food Of Love, Play On, Give Me Excess Of It; That Surfeiting, The Appetite May Sicken, And So Die.

Unrequited Love

Here's That Which Is Too Weak To Be A Sinner, Honest Water, Which Ne'er Left Man I' The Mire.

Advance Our Standards, Set Upon Our Foes; Our Ancient Word Of Courage, Fair Saint George, Inspire Us With The Spleen Of Fiery Dragons!

This Day's Black Fate On More Days Doth Depend; This But Begins The Woe, Others Must End.

Come What Sorrow Can, It Cannot Countervail The Exchange Of Joy, That One Short Minute Gives Me In Her Sight

When Love Begins To Sicken And Decay It Uses An Enforced Ceremony.

I Think Thy Horse Will Sooner Con An Oration Than Thou Learn A Prayer Without Book.

There Is No Slander In An Allowed Fool, Though He Do Nothing But Rail.

You'd Be So Lean, That Blast Of January Would Blow You Through And Through. Now, My Fair'st Friend, I Would I Had Some Flowers O' The Spring That Might Become Your Time Of Day.

Vice Repeated Is Like The Wandering Wind, Blows Dust In Others' Eyes To Spread Itself.

No Reckoning Made, But Sent To My Account With All My Imperfections On My Head.

In Jest, There Is Truth.

The Prince Of Darkness Is A Gentleman!

Tired With All These For Restful Death I Cry, As To Behold Desert A Beggar Born, And Needy Nothing Trimmed In Jollity, And Purest Faith Unhappily Forsworn.

Oh! It Offends Me To The Soul To Hear A Robust Periwig-pated Fellow, Tear A Passion To Tatters, To Very Rags, To Split The Ears Of The Groundlings.

The Day Shall Not Be Up So Soon As I, To Try The Fair Adventure Of Tomorrow.

Love Asks Me No Questions, And Gives Me Endless Support.

The Rest, Is Silence.

Never Anything Can Be Amiss, When Simpleness And Duty Tender It.

O God, I Could Be Bound In A Nutshell, And Count Myself A King Of Infinite Space – Were It Not That I Have Bad Dreams.

My Love Is Thaw'd; Which, Like A Waxen Image 'gainst A Fire, Bears No Impression Of The Thing It Was

So Many Horrid Ghosts.

In That Small [time] Most Greatly Lived This Star Of England: Fortune Made His Sword, By Which The World's Best Garden He Achiev'd And Left It To His Son Imperial Lord. Henry The Sixth, In Infant Bands Crown'd King Of France And England Did This King Succeed; Whose State So Many Of Had The Managing, That They Lost France And Made His England Bleed.

Assure Thee, If I Do Vow A Friendship, I'll Perform It To The Last Article." --othello, Act Iii, Scene Iii

All Is Well Ended, If The Suit Be Won.

But Clay And Clay Differs In Dignity, Whose Dust Is Both Alike.

O, What Damned Minutes Tells He O'er Who Dotes, Yet Doubts, Suspects, Yet Fondly Loves!

As Flies To Wanton Boys, Are We To The Gods; They Kill Us For Their Sport.

Where Civil Blood Makes Civil Hands Unclean

Romeo And Juliet Love

And Worse I May Be Yet: The Worst Is Not So Long As We Can Say 'this Is The Worst.

Un-thread The Rude Eye Of Rebellion, And Welcome Home Again Discarded Faith.

Value Dwells Not In Particular Will; It Holds His Estimate And Dignity As Well Wherein 'tis Precious Of Itself As In The Prizer.

Brave New World Character

Let Every Eye Negotiate For Itself And Trust No Agent.

What E'er Thou Art, Act Well Thy Part.

In Springtime, The Only Pretty Ring Time Birds Sing, Hey Ding A-ding, A-ding Sweet Lovers Love The Spring—

The Plants Look Up To Heaven, From Whence They Have Their Nourishment.

The Bashful Virgin's Sidelong Looks Of Love, The Matron's Glance That Would Those Looks Reprove.

Were It My Cue To Fight, I Should Have Known It Without A Prompter.

Yet But Three Come One More. Two Of Both Kinds Make Up Four. Ere She Comes Curst And Sad. Cupid Is A Knavish Lad. Thus To Make Poor Females Mad.

Well, I Must Be Patient; There Is No Fettering Of Authority.

The Thorny Point Of Bare Distress Hath Ta'en From Me The Show Of Smooth Civility; Yet Am I Inland Bred And Know Some Nurture.

This Passion, And The Death Of A Dear Friend, Would Go Near To Make A Man Look Sad.

Death Of A Friend

A Woman Impudent And Mannish Grown Is Not More Loath'd Than An Effeminate Man.

Men So Noble, However Faulty, Yet Should Find Respect For What They Have Been: 'tis A Cruelty To Load A Falling Man.

Oh, Flatter Me; For Love Delights In Praises.

A Good Old Man, Sir. He Will Be Talking. As They Say, When The Age Is In, The Wit Is Out.

O That A Lady, Of One Man Refused, Should Of Another Therefore Be Abused!

Put On The Dauntless Spirit Of Resolution.

But There Is No Such Man; For, Brother, Men Can Counsel And Speak Comfort To That Grief Which They Themselves Not Feel; But, Tasting It, Their Counsel Turns To Passion, Which Before Would Give Preceptial Medicine To Rage, Fetter Strong Madness In A Silken Thread, Charm Ache With Air And Agony With Words.

Life Is As Tedious As Twice-told Tale, Vexing The Dull Ear Of A Drowsy Man.

My Crown Is In My Heart, Not On My Head.

In Time The Savage Bull Doth Bear The Yoke.

Never Durst Poet Touch A Pen To Write Until His Ink Were Temper'd With Love's Sighs.

Most Dangerous Is That Temptation That Doth Goad Us On To Sin In Loving Virtue.

The Dullness Of The Fool Is The Whetstone Of The Wits.

I Have Touch'd The Highest Point Of All My Greatness, And From That Full Meridian Of My Glory I Haste Now To My Setting.

I Have More Care To Stay Than Will To Go.

He's A Soldier; And For One To Say A Soldier Lies, Is Stabbing.

Good With Out Evil Is Like Light With Out Darkness Which In Turn Is Like Righteousness Whith Out Hope.

Glendower: I Can Call The Spirits From The Vasty Deep. Hotspur: Why, So Can I, Or So Can Any Man; But Will They Come, When You Do Call For Them?

Time Is The Old Justice That Examines All Such Offenders, And Let Time Try.

Fortune Reigns In Gifts Of The World.

Bell, Book And Candle Shall Not Drive Me Back, When Gold And Silver Becks Me To Come On.

A Sad Tale's Best For Winter. I Have One Of Sprites And Goblins.

The King Hath Note Of All That They Intend, By Interception Which They Dream Not Of.

He Reads Much; He Is A Great Observer And He Looks Quite Through The Deeds Of Men: He Loves No Plays, As Thou Dost, Antony; He Hears No Music; Seldom He Smiles, And Smiles In Such A Sort As If He Mock'd Himself And Scorn'd His Spirit That Could Be Moved To Smile At Any Thing. Such Men As He Be Never At Heart's Ease Whiles They Behold A Greater Than Themselves, And Therefore Are They Very Dangerous.

Wisdom Cries Out In The Streets, And No Man Regards It.

Have More Than Thou Showest, Speak Less Than Thou Knowest, Lend Less Than Thou Owest.

If The Boy Have Not A Woman's Gift To Rain A Shower Of Commanded Tears, An Onion Will Do Well For Such A Shift.

Therefore Another Prologue Must Tell He Is Not A Lion

When He Is Best, He Is A Little Worse Than A Man; And When He Is Worst, He Is Little Better Than A Beast.

I Thought My Heart Had Been Wounded With The Claws Of A Lion.

Lady, You Know No Rules Of Charity, Which Renders Good For Bad, Blessings For Curses.

Thou Shalt Be Free As Mountain Winds: But Then Exactly Do All Points Of My Command.

Love, Therefore, And Tongue-tied Simplicity In Least Speak Most, To My Capacity.

She Never Told Her Love, But Let Concealment, Like A Worm 'i Th' Bud, Feed On Her Damask Cheek. She Pinned In Thought; And, With A Green And Yellow Melancholy, She Sat Like Patience On A Monument, Smiling At Grief. Was Not This Love Indeed? We Men May Say More, Swear More; But Indeed Our Shows Are More Than Will; For We Still Prove Much In Our Vows But Little In Our Love.

That In The Captains But A Choleric Word Which In The Soldier Is Flat Blasphemy.

Measure For Measure

Be Checked For Silence, But Never Taxed For Speech.

Temptation Is The Fire That Brings Up The Scum Of The Heart.

Let Each Man Do His Best.

My Heart Is Ever At Your Service.

He Says, He Loves My Daughter; I Think So Too; For Never Gaz'd The Moon Upon The Water, As He'll Stand And Read, As 'twere, My Daughter's Eyes: And, To Be Plain, I Think, There Is Not Half A Kiss To Choose, Who Loves Another Best.

What Our Contempts Do Often Hurl From Us, We Wish It Ours Again.

The Fittest Time To Corrupt A Man's Wife Is When She's Fallen Out With Her Husband.

Death, A Necessary End, Will Come When It Will Come

To Be Generous, Guiltless, And Of A Free Disposition Is To Take Those Things For Bird-bolts That You Deem Cannon-bullets.

When Words Are Scarce They Are Seldom Spent In Vain.

Thought Provoking

The Gates Of Monarchs Are Arched So High That Giants May Jet Through And Keep Their Impious Turbans On Without Good Morrow To The Sun.

The Devil Hath Power To Assume A Pleasing Shape.

For Thy Sweet Love Remember'd Such Wealth Brings That Then I Scorn To Change My State With Kings.

Women Speak Two Languages - One Of Which Is Verbal.

I Would Not Wish Any Companion In The World But You.

I Will Instruct My Sorrows To Be Proud; For Grief Is Proud, And Makes His Owner Stoop.

Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind Thou Art Not So Unkind, As Man's Ingratitude.

In God's Name Cheerly On, Courageous Friends, To Reap The Harvest Of Perpetual Peace By This One Bloody Trial Of Sharp War.

We Must Love Men, Ere To Us They Will Seem Worthy Of Our Love.

Anger's My Meat. I Sup Upon Myself, And So Shall Starve With Feeding.

Why, This Hath Not A Finger's Dignity.

There's A Time For All Things.

These Violent Delights Have Violent Ends And In Their Triump Die, Like Fire And Powder Which, As They Kiss, Consume

Romeo And Juliet Love

That Is Not The Best Sermon Which Makes The Hearers Go Away Talking To One Another And Praising The Speaker, But Which Makes Them Go Away Thoughtful And Serious, And Hastening To Be Alone.

She Moves Me Not, Or Not Removes At Least Affection's Edge In Me.

Full Many A Lady I Have Eyed With Best Regard, And Many A Time Th' Harmony Of Their Tongues Hath Into Bondage Brought My Too Diligent Ear; For Several Virtues Have I Liked Several Women; Never Any With So Full Soul But Some Defect In Her Did Quarrel With The Noblest Grace She Owed, And Put It To The Foil.

O Death, Made Proud With Pure And Princely Beauty!

I Can Call Spirits From The Vasty Deep.

Is He On His Horse? O Happy Horse, To Bear The Weight Of Antony!

Now I Will Believe That There Are Unicorns.

The Insolence Of Office.

Oft Have I Heard That Grief Softens The Mind And Makes It Fearful And Degenerate.

Thou Art An Elm, My Husband, I A Vine, Whose Weakness, Married To Thy Stronger State, Makes Me With Thy Strength To Communicate.

Let Us Sit And Mock The Good Housewife Fortune From Her Wheel, That Her Gifts May Henceforth Be Bestowed Equally, I Would We Could Do So For Her Benefits Are Mightily Misplaced And The Bountiful Blind Girl Doth Most Mistake In Her Gifts To Women. 'tis True For Those That She Makes Fair She Scarce Makes Honest And Those That She Makes Honest She Makes Very Ill-favouredly. Nay, Now Thou Goest From Fortunes Office To Natures. Fortune Reigns In Gifts Of The World, Not In The Lineaments Of Nature.

The Quality Of Mercy Is Not Strain'd, It Droppeth As The Gentle Rain From Heaven Upon The Place Beneath: It Is Twice Blest; It Blesseth Him That Gives And Him That Takes: 'tis Mightiest In The Mightiest: It Becomes The Throned Monarch Better Than His Crown; His Sceptre Shows The Force Of Temporal Power, The Attribute To Awe And Majesty, Wherein Doth Sit The Dread And Fear Of Kings; But Mercy Is Above This Sceptred Sway; It Is Enthroned In The Hearts Of Kings, It Is An Attribute To God Himself; And Earthly Power Doth Then Show Likest God's When Mercy Seasons Justice.

His Heart As Far From Fraud As Heaven From Earth.

Tis Beauty That Doth Oft Make Women Proud; But, God He Knows, Thy Share Thereof Is Small.

Be Not Afraid Of Greatness.

Plenty And Peace Breed Cowards; Hardness Ever Of Hardiness Is Mother.

All Surfeit Is The Father Of Much Fast.

Measure For Measure

Time's The King Of Men; He's Both Their Parent, And He Is Their Grave, And Gives Them What He Will, Not What They Crave.

You Take My Life When You Do Take The Means Whereby I Live

But Thou, Contracted To Thine Own Bright Eyes, Feed'st Thy Light's Flame With Self-substantial Fuel, Making A Famine Where Abundance Lies, Thyself Thy Foe, To Thy Sweet Self Too Cruel.

Haste Is Needful In A Desperate Case.

I Have Been Studying How I May Compare This Prison Where I Live Unto The World; And, For Because The World Is Populous, And Here Is Not A Creature But Myself, I Cannot Do It. Yet I'll Hammer It Out.

We Go To Gain A Little Patch Of Ground That Hath In It No Profit But The Name.

I Am Your Wife If You Will Marry Me. If Not, I'll Die Your Maid. To Be Your Fellow You May Deny Me, But I'll Be Your Servant Whether You Will Or No.

Wisely, I Say, I Am A Bachelor.

Mercutio: "if Love Be Rough With You, Be Rough With Love.

Romeo And Juliet Love

But I, That Am Not Shaped For Sportive Tricks, Nor Made To Court An Amorous Looking-glass; I, That Am Rudely Stamped, And Want Love's Majesty To Strut Before A Wanton Ambling Nymph.

He Wears The Rose Of Youth Upon Him.

Love Is Blind And Lovers Cannot See The Pretty Follies That Themselves Commit

Contention, Like A Horse, Full Of High Feeding, Madly Hath Broke Loose, And Bears Down All Before Him.

I Will Through And Through Cleanse The Foul Body Of Th' Infected World, If They Will Patiently Receive My Medicine.

I Will Be Brief. Your Noble Son Is Mad.

One Touch Of Nature Makes The Whole World Kin.

Where Is Polonius? Hamlet In Heaven. Send Hither To See. If Your Messenger Find Him Not There, Seek Him I' Th' Other Place Yourself. But If Indeed You Find Him Not Within This Month, You Shall Nose Him As You Go Up The Stairs Into The Lobby.

Sorrow Breaks Seasons And Reposing Hours, Makes The Night Morning, And The Noontide Night.

Can It Be Chat Modesty May More Betray Our Sense Than Woman's Lightness?

I Have Sounded The Very Base-string Of Humility.

Friends, Romans, Countrymen, Lend Me Your Ears; I Come To Bury Caesar, Not To Praise Him.

Time, Whose Millioned Accidents Creep In Betwixt Vows, And Change Decrees Of Kings, Tan Sacred Beauty, Blunt The Sharpest Intents, Divert Strong Minds To The Course Of Altering Things.

Be Wise As Thou Art Cruel, Do Not Press My Tongue-tied Patience With Too Much Disdain: Lest Sorrow Lend Me Words And Words Express, The Manner Of My Pity-wanting Pain.

Lord, Lord, How Subject We Old Men Are To This Vice Of Lying!

Hath Not A Jew Eyes? Hath Not A Jew Hands, Organs, Dimensions, Senses, Affections, Passions? ...if You Poison Us, Do We Not Die? And If You Wrong Us, Shall We Not Revenge? If We Are Like You In The Rest, We Will Resemble You In That. If A Jew Wrong A Christian, What Is His Humility? Revenge. If A Christian Wrong A Jew, What Should His Sufferance Be By Christian Example?

Fools Are Not Mad Folks.

But Virtue Never Will Be Mov'd, Though Lewdness Court It In A Shape Of Heaven.

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