Desire of having is the sin of covetousness.

Pardon's the word to all.

It is not vain glory for a man and his glass to confer in his own chamber.

I feel within me a peace above all earthly dignities, a still and quiet conscience.

By my troth, I care not; a man can die but once; we owe God a death and let it go which way it will he that dies this year is quit for the next

Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me From mine own library with volumes that I prize above my dukedom.

Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind.