Thou shalt not steal; an empty feat, When it's so lucrative to cheat.
In front, the sun climbs slow, how slowly, but westward, look, the land is bright.
A world where nothing is had for nothing.
My wind is turned to bitter north, That was so soft a south before; My sky, that shone so sunny bright, With foggy gloom is clouded o'er My gay green leaves are yellow-black, Upon the dank autumnal floor; For love, departed once, comes back No more again, no more.
Grace is given of god, but knowledge is bought in the market.
If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars.