Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o' the milk of human kindness To catch the nearest way: thou wouldst be great; Art not without ambition, but without The illness should attend it: what thou wouldst highly, That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false, And yet wouldst wrongly win.

You will never age for me, nor fade, nor die.

A college of wit-crackers cannot flout me out of my humor. Dost thou think I care for a satire or an epigram?

I am a Jew: Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with die same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is?

He makes a July's day short as December.

A table-full of welcome!

Many can brook the weather that love not the wind.