The purest treasure mortal times afford
Is spotless reputation: that away,
Men are but gilded loam or painted clay.
Mine honour is my life; both grow in one,
Take honour from me, and my life is done.
~ William Shakespeare
The purest treasure mortal times afford
Is spotless reputation: that away,
Men are but gilded loam or painted clay.
Mine honour is my life; both grow in one,
Take honour from me, and my life is done.
~ William Shakespeare