With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love out

Things won are done, joy's soul lies in the doing.

O, when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd! She was a vixen when she went to school; And though she be but little, she is fierce.

He that loves to be flattered is worthy o' the flatterer.

He hath disgrac'd me and hind'red me half a million; laugh'd at my losses, mock'd at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted my bargains, cooled my friends, heated my enemies. And what's his reason? I am a Jew.

This day's black fate on more days doth depend; This but begins the woe, others must end.

Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, Should without eyes see pathways to his will!