Pride

I have bought Golden opinions from all sorts of people.

Ay, every inch a king.

But man, proud man, Drest in a little brief authority, Most ignorant of what he’s most assur’d, His glassy essence, like an angry ape, Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven As make the angels weep.

How apt the poor are to be proud.

’Tis mad idolatry To make the service greater than the god.

Rightly to be great Is not to stir without great argument, But greatly to find quarrel in a straw When honor’s at the stake.

The glass of fashion and the mould of form, The observ’d of all observers!

My pride fell with my fortunes.

This was the noblest Roman of them all.

’Tis a common proof, That lowliness is young ambition’s ladder, Whereto the climber-upward turns his face; But when he once attains the upmost round, He then unto the ladder turns his back, Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees By which he did ascend.

Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort As if he mock’d himself, and scorn’d his spirit That could be mov’d to smile at anything.

Well, honor is the subject of my story. I cannot tell what you and other men Think of this life; but, for my single self, I had as lief not be as live to be In awe of such a thing as I myself.

But if it be a sin to covet honor, I am the most offending soul alive.

I will not jump with common spirits And rank me with the barbarous multitude.

Shall I bend low, and in a bondman’s key, With bated breath, and whispering humbleness, Say this.

I am Sir Oracle, And when I ope my lips let no dog bark!

Greatness knows itself.

I am not in the roll of common men.

Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds.

Mine honor is my life; both grow in one; Take honor from me, and my life is done.

The purest treasure mortal times afford Is spotless reputation.

Our purses shall be proud, our garments poor: For ’tis the mind that makes the body rich; And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds, So honor peereth in the meanest habit.

My crown is in my heart, not on my head; Not deck’d with diamonds and Indian stones, Nor to be seen: my crown is call’d content; A crown it is that seldom kings enjoy.

True nobility is exempt from fear.