“Come t'e' picciol fallo amaro morso! Dante. What grievous pain a little fault doth give thee!”
“Thou may be sure that he who will tell thee of thy faults is thy friend, for he ventures thy dislike and doth hazard thy hatred.”
“I'm getting chest pains...You give me chest pains Uncle Willie.It's my fault you get excited.Yes, it's your fault! I only get chest pains on Wednesdays.So come on Tuesdays.”
“He hath showed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth Jehovah require of thee? but to do justly, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with thy God? (Micah 6:8 ASV)”
“Know the grave doth gape for thee thrice wider than for other men.”
“Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa”—my fault, my fault, my most grievous fault—as she pounded her fist to her chest three times as if pounding shut a door to keep her guilt from escaping.”