I hate the man who builds his name
On ruins of another's fame.

I hate the man who builds his name
On ruins of another's fame.

There are . . . robberies that leave man or woman forever
beggared of peace and joy, yet kept read more

There are . . . robberies that leave man or woman forever
beggared of peace and joy, yet kept secret by the sufferer.

No, 'tis slander,
Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongue
Outvenoms all the worms of read more

No, 'tis slander,
Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongue
Outvenoms all the worms of Nile, whose breath
Rides on the posting winds and doth belie
All corners of the world. Kings, queens. and states,
Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave
This viperous slander enters.

A generous heart repairs a slanderous tongue.

A generous heart repairs a slanderous tongue.

Your tittle-tattlers, and those who listen to slander, by my good
will should all be hanged--the former by their read more

Your tittle-tattlers, and those who listen to slander, by my good
will should all be hanged--the former by their tongues, the
latter by the ears.
[Lat., Homines qui gestant, quique auscultant crimina,
Si meo arbitratu liceat, omnes pendeant,
Gestores linguis, auditores auribus.]

Have patience awhile; slanders are not long-lived. Truth is the child of time; ere long she shall appear to vindicate read more

Have patience awhile; slanders are not long-lived. Truth is the child of time; ere long she shall appear to vindicate thee.

For enemies carry about slander not in the form in which it took
its rise. . . . The read more

For enemies carry about slander not in the form in which it took
its rise. . . . The scandal of men is everlasting; even then does
it survive when you would suppose it to be dead.

If slander be a snake, it is a winged one--it flies as well as
creeps.

If slander be a snake, it is a winged one--it flies as well as
creeps.

That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect,
For slander's mark was ever yet the fair;
read more

That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect,
For slander's mark was ever yet the fair;
The ornament of beauty is suspect,
A crow that flies in heaven's sweetest air.
So thou be good, slander doth but approve
Thy worth the greater, being wooed of time;
For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love,
And thou present'st a pure unstained prime.