Earth-treading Stars That Make Dark Heaven Light

Good Name In Man And Woman, Dear My Lord, Is The Immediate Jewel Of Their Souls: Who Steals My Purse Steals Trash; ’tis Something, Nothing; ’twas Mine, ’tis 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.

You Undergo Too Strict A Paradox, Striving To Make An Ugly Deed Look Fair.

A Jest's Prosperity Lies In The Ear Of Him That Hears It, Never In The Tongue Of Him That Makes It.

The Insolence Of Office.

You Are Not Wood, You Are Not Stones, But Men.