Who steals a bugle-horn, a ring, a steed,
Or such like worthless thing, has some discretion;
'Tis read more

Who steals a bugle-horn, a ring, a steed,
Or such like worthless thing, has some discretion;
'Tis petty larceny: not such his deed
Who robs us of our fame, our best possession.

Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing.
'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands;
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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.

A murderer and a villain,
A slave that is not twentieth part the tithe
Of your precedent read more

A murderer and a villain,
A slave that is not twentieth part the tithe
Of your precedent lord, a vice of kings,
A cutpurse of the empire and the rule,
That from a shelf the precious diadem stole
And put it in his pocket--

Stolen sweets are always sweeter:
Stolen kisses much completer;
Stolen looks are nice in chapels:
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Stolen sweets are always sweeter:
Stolen kisses much completer;
Stolen looks are nice in chapels:
Stolen, stolen be your apples.

The robbed that smiles steals something from the thief,
He robs himself that spends a bootless grief.

The robbed that smiles steals something from the thief,
He robs himself that spends a bootless grief.

For she sitteth at the door of her house, on a seat in the high
places of the city,
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For she sitteth at the door of her house, on a seat in the high
places of the city,
To call passengers who go right on their ways:
Whoso is simple, let him turn in hither: and as for him that
wanteth understanding, she saith to him,
Stolen waters are sweet, and bread eaten in secret is pleasant.

--To live
On means not yours--be brave in silks and laces,
Gallant in steeds; splendid in banquets; read more

--To live
On means not yours--be brave in silks and laces,
Gallant in steeds; splendid in banquets; all
Not yours. Given, uninherited, unpaid for;
This is to be a trickster; and to filch
Men's art and labour, which to them is wealth,
Life, daily bread;--quitting all scores with "friend,
You're troublesome!" Why this, forgive me,
Is what, when done with a less dainty grace,
Plain folks call "Theft."

Kill a man's family, and he may brook it,
But keep your hands out of his breeches' pocket.

Kill a man's family, and he may brook it,
But keep your hands out of his breeches' pocket.

Never thrust your own sickle into another's corn.

Never thrust your own sickle into another's corn.