Подозрението винаги живее в престъпна душа: на крадеца всеки храст му прилича на дедектив.

“The barge she sat in, like a burnish’d throne, Burn’d on the water; the poop wa…”

“Modest doubt is call'd the beacon of the wise.”

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”

“Tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers.”