This Is The Jew That Shakespeare Drew.

Ambition, In A Private Man Is A Vice, Is In A Prince The Virtue.

Giants In Their Promises, But Those Obtained, Weak Pigmies In Their Performance.

We Have Not An Hour Of Life In Which Our Pleasures Relish Not Some Pain, Our Sours, Some Sweetness.

Quiet Night, That Brings Best To The Labourer, Is The Outlaw's Day, In Which He Rises Early To Do Wrong, And When His Work Is Ended Dares Not Sleep.

Virgin Me No Virgins! I Must Have You Lose That Name, Or You Lose Me.