Trust reposed in noble natures obliges them the more.
He who trusts secrets to a servant makes him his master
Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire.
All, as they say, that glitters is not gold.
One of the greatest, most noble, and most sublime poems which either this age or nation has produced.
Fattened in vice, so callous and so gross, he sins and sees not, senseless of his loss.