The Amity That Wisdom Knits Not, Folly

Good Hamlet, Cast Thy Nighted Colour Off ... Do Not For Ever With Thy Vailed Lids Seek For Thy Noble Father In The Dust.

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?

Our Wills And Fates Do So Contrary Run.

Some Are Born Great, Some Achieve Greatness, And Some Have Greatness Thrust Upon Them.

We Cannot All Be Masters.