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: People! I tell you, Tzeitel, if God lived on earth, people would break his windows!
[Yente has returned from the post office
: The postman told me there was a letter for your sister, Hodel. Tzeitel
: Thank you, I'll go and get it. Yente
: I got it. It's, ah, from her intended, Perchik. Tzeitel
: Oh, she'll be so happy, she's been waiting to hear from... but it's open! Yente
] So, it happened to be open...
: From such children come other children! Golde
: Motel is nothing! Yente, you said you had news for me... Yente
: Ah, children, they are your blessing in your old age. My poor Aaron, God rest his soul, couldn't give me children. Between you and me, Golde, he hardly tried.
: Even the worst husband, God forbid, is better than no husband, God forbid.