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.

Let no such man be trusted.

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.

Our purses shall be proud, our garments poor; for 'tis the mind that makes the body rich

Brutus, I do observe you now of late: I have not from your eyes that gentleness And show of love as I was wont to have: You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand Over your friend that loves you. Poor Brutus, with himself at war, Forgets the shows of love to other men.

I love thee; none but thee, and thou deservest it

Despair and die. The ghosts