Welcome, thou kind deceiver! Thou best of thieves; who, with an easy key, Dost open life, and, unperceived by us, Even steal us from ourselves.

Nor is the people's judgment always true: the most may err as grossly as the few.

He trudged along unknowing what he sought, And whistled as he went, for want of thought.

Heaven be thanked, we live in such an age, When no man dies for love, but on the stage.

Dead men tell no tales.

Bold knaves thrive without one grain of sense, But good men starve for want of impudence.

Treason is greatest where trust is greatest.