Corruption wins not more than honesty.
I hate ingratitude more in a man than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness, or any taint of vice whose strong corruption inhabits our frail blood".
Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud; Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun, And loathsome canker lies in sweetest bud. All men make faults.
When rich villains have need of poor ones, poor ones may make what price they will
Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues.
Love thyself last, cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty.
Loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.
What wouldst thou do, old man? Think'st thou that duty shall have dread to speak When power to flattery bows?
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