How Strange Or Odd Some'er I Bear

If Our Virtues Did Not Go Forth Of Us, It Were All Alike As If We Had Them Not.

Infirm Of Purpose! Give Me The Daggers: The Sleeping And The Dead Are But As Pictures: ‘tis The Eye Of Childhood That Fears A Painted Devil

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?

The Hebrew Will Turn Christian; He Grows Kind.

I Do I Know Not What, And Fear To Find Mine Eye Too Great A Flatterer For My Mind. Fate, Show Thy Force. Ourselves We Do Not Owe. What Is Decreed Must Be; And Be This So.