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.

He that is robbed, not wanting what is stol'n,
Let him not know't, and he's not robbed at all.

He that is robbed, not wanting what is stol'n,
Let him not know't, and he's not robbed at all.

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.

The Frier preached against stealing, and had a goose in his
sleeve.
[The Friar preached against stealing, and read more

The Frier preached against stealing, and had a goose in his
sleeve.
[The Friar preached against stealing, and had a goose in his
sleeve.]

No Indian prince has to his palace
More followers than a thief to the gallows.

No Indian prince has to his palace
More followers than a thief to the gallows.

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.

Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself
Are much condemned to have an itching palm,
To sell read more

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.

Do villainy, do, since you protest to do't,
Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery:
The sun's read more

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.

In vain we call old notions fudge
And bend our conscience to our dealing.
The Ten Commandments read more

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.