Conscience is a thousand swords.
All is well ended, if the suit be won.
Hung be the heavens with black! Yield, day, to night!
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.
On the bat’s back I do fly After summer merrily.
Men in rage strike those that wish them best.