The more pity, that fools may not speak wisely what wise men do foolishly.
Poor and content is rich, and rich enough.
I scorn you, scurvy companion.
I take thee at thy word: Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized; Henceforth I never will be Romeo.
So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep. But they are creul tears. This sorrow's heavenly; it strikes where it doth love.
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.