Wilt thou whip thine own faults in other men?
The jury passing on the prisoner's life may in the sworn twelve have a thief or two guiltier than him they try.
The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes.
'Tis pride that pulls the country down.
I have heard of your paintings too, well enough; God has given you one face, and you make yourselves another.
I must be cruel, only to be kind.