| Author |
Quotes |
| Bible | To keep my hands from picking and stealing. |
| Colley Cibber | Stolen sweets are best. |
| Francesco Berni | 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. |
| Motto | In vain we call old notions fudge And bend our conscience to our dealing. The Ten Commandments will not budge And stealing will continue stealing. |
| Thomas Randolph | Stolen sweets are always sweeter: Stolen kisses much completer; Stolen looks are nice in chapels: Stolen, stolen be your apples. |
| George Herbert | The Frier preached against stealing, and had a goose in his sleeve. |
| Lord Alfred Tennyson | Well, well, be it so, thou strongest their of all, For thou hast stolen my will, and made it thine. |
| Publilius Syrus | Never thrust your own sickle into another's corn. |
| Unattributed Author | 'Tis bad enough in man or woman To steal a goose from off a common, But surely he's without excuse Who steals a common from the goose. |
| William Shakespeare | O villain, thou hast stol'n both mine office and my name! The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle blame. |
| William Shakespeare | 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-- |
| William Shakespeare | Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself Are much condemned to have an itching palm, To sell and mart your offices for gold To undeservers. |
| William Shakespeare | A plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another! |
| William Shakespeare | Do villainy, do, since you protest to do't, Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery, The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction Robs the vast sea, the moon's an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun, The sea's a thief, whose liquid surges resolves The moon into salt tears, the earth's a thief, That feeds and breeds by a composture stol'n From gen'ral excrement. |
| William Shakespeare | Yet thanks I must you con That you are thieves professed, that you work not In holier shapes, for there is boundless theft In limited professions. |
| William Shakespeare | The robbed that smiles steals something from the thief, He robs himself that spends a bootless grief. |
| William Shakespeare | He that is robbed, not wanting what is stol'n, Let him not know't, and he's not robbed at all. |
| William Shakespeare | 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. |
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