A Quote by William Shakespeare

No might nor greatness in mortality Can censure 'scape; back- wounding calumny The whitest virtue strikes. What king so strong Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue? — © William Shakespeare
No might nor greatness in mortality Can censure 'scape; back- wounding calumny The whitest virtue strikes. What king so strong Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue?
Conversion is not the smooth, easy-going process some men seem to think... It is wounding work, this breaking of the hearts, but without wounding there is no saving... Where there is grafting there will always be a cutting, the graft must be let in with a wound; to stick it onto the outside or to tie it on with a string would be of no use. Heart must be set to heart and back to back or there will be no sap from root to branch. And this, I say, must be done by a wound, by a cut.
As my object was not myself, I set out with the determination, and happily with the disposition, of not being moved by praise or censure, friendship or calumny, nor of being drawn from my purpose by any personal altercation; and the man who cannot do this, is not fit for a public character.
Done to death by slanderous tongue
A generous heart repairs a slanderous tongue.
The more I loved the king, the more I opposed his injustice until his brow fell lowering upon me. He heaped calumny after calumny on my head, and I chose to be driven out rather than to subscribe.
For a thousand years no king in Christendom has shown such greatness or given so high a type of manly virtue.
In nine times out of ten, the slanderous tongue belongs to a disappointed person.
The place does not make the man, nor the sceptre the king. Greatness is from within.
The raven once in snowy plumes was drest, White as the whitest dove's unsullied breast, Fair as the guardian of the Capitol, Soft as the swan; a large and lovely fowl His tongue, his prating tongue had changed him quite To sooty blackness from the purest white.
A wounding tongue. I'm working on it. Perhaps its the Celt in me.
Confession: When I went to see The Empire Strikes Back I found myself glancing at my watch. The Force is with us, indeed, and a lot of it is hot air. It's a measure of my mixed feelings about The Empire Strikes Back that I'm not at all sure that I understand the plot. The Empire Strikes Back is about as personal as a Christmas card from a bank.
Censure is like the lightning which strikes the highest mountains.
The upright, if he suffer calumny to move him, fears the tongue of man more than the eye of God.
O Time the fatal wrack of mortal things, That draws oblivion's curtains over kings; Their sumptuous monuments, men know them not, Their names without a record are forgot, Their parts, their ports, their pomps all laid in th' dust Nor wit nor gold, nor buildings scape time's rust; But he whose name is graved in the white stone Shall last and shine when all of these are gone.
The 'King of Small Style' moniker was actually an idea that a real good friend of mine back home in Oshkosh, Wisconsin came up with the day I was released by WWE. Nakamura was the 'King of Strong Style' and that nickname was hot at the time so I jumped on the bandwagon and made a name of my own. It's stuck with me ever since.
I do believe that there's going to be a pretty strong consensus for a very strong .. censure resolution.
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