Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.
What man art thou that, thus bescreened in night, So stumblest on my counsel? *Who are you? Why do you hide in the darkness and listen to my private thoughts?*
What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts.
Happy are they that hear their detractions, and can put them to mending.
Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more.
By that sin fell the angels.