When I have plucked the rose, I cannot give it vital growth again, It needs must wither. I'll smell it on the tree.
William ShakespeareAll that glitters is not gold; Often have you heard that told: Many a man his life has sold But my outside to behold: Gilded tombs do worms enfold Had you been as wise as bold, Your in limbs, in judgment old, Your answer had not been in'scroll'd Fare you well: your suit is cold.' Cold, indeed, and labour lost: Then, farewell, heat and welcome, frost!
William ShakespeareGood name in man and woman, dear my lord, Is the immediate jewel of their souls: Who steals my purse steals trash; โtis something, nothing; โtwas mine, โtis his, and has been slave to thousands; But he that filches from me my good name Robs me of that which not enriches him, And makes me poor indeed.
William Shakespeare