A Quote by William Congreve

He that first cries out stop thief, is often he that has stolen the treasure. — © William Congreve
He that first cries out stop thief, is often he that has stolen the treasure.
Stolen sweets are always sweeter, Stolen kisses much completer, Stolen looks are nice in chapels, Stolen, stolen be your apples.
Whoever is the first to cry "Stop the thief" is the one who is guilty.
I have never stolen. I am not a thief.
You lovers of knowledge! So what have you done out of your love of knowledge up to now? Have you already stolen and murdered so as to know how a thief and a murderer feels?
Friend of mine, a smart journalist, had his iPad stolen. He couldn't help that - the thief broke into his house. But his private, personal data wasn't stolen, exactly. Donated, more like. He had no passcode set on the iPad.
I felt like a thief with a bagful of stolen glances.
The first time it was reported that our friends were being butchered there was a cry of horror. Then a hundred were butchered. But when a thousand were butchered and there was no end to the butchery, a blanket of silence spread. When evil-doing comes like falling rain, nobody calls out "stop!" When crimes begin to pile up they become invisible. When sufferings become unendurable the cries are no longer heard. The cries, too, fall like rain in summer.
This is stolen? We're in a stolen jet?" "Not stolen," said Donegan Bane from the co-pilot's seat. "Almost stolen," Grascious corrected. "Semi-stolen," said Donegan. "Quasi stolen," said Grascious. Aurora's frown did not turn upside down. "So is it stolen or not?" Donegan and Grascious hesitated. "Yes,"they both said toghether.
Enter, stranger, but take heed Of what awaits the sin of greed, For those who take, but do not earn, Must pay most dearly in their turn. So if you seek beneath our floors A treasure that was never yours, Thief, you have been warned, beware Of finding more than treasure there.
I asked a thief to steal me a peach: He turned up his eyes. I asked a lithe lady to lie her down: Holy and meek, she cries. As soon as I went An angel came. He winked at the thief And smiled at the dame- And without one word spoke Had a peach from the tree, And 'twixt earnest and joke Enjoyed the lady.
The thief, as will become apparent, was a special type of thief. This thief was an artist of theft. Other thieves merely stole everything that was not nailed down, but this thief stole the nails as well.
The thief steals from himself. The swindler swindles himself. For the real price is knowledge and virtue, whereof wealth and credit are signs. These signs, like paper money, may be counterfeited or stolen, but that which they represent, namely, knowledge and virtue, cannot be counterfeited or stolen.
The very nature of these inventions cries out for the goodness in men; cries out for universal brotherhood; for the unity of us all.
How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, stolen on his wing my three-and-twentieth year!
What a unique treasure are the things we have learned to live without, for no thief can take them from us.
Stolen scrap like manhole covers, railroad weights, stop signs, guard rails, and public lighting put our residents in grave danger. Not only that, but the theft is tearing apart communities with stolen church and cemetery ornaments.
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