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He has no fault except that he has no fault.

The glorious fault of angels and of gods.

I will chide no breather in the world but myself, against whom I know most faults.

They were all like one another as halfpence are, every one fault seeming monstrous till his fellow-fault came to match it.

Chide him for faults, and do it reverently, When you perceive his blood inclined to mirth, But, being moody, give him time and scope, Till that his passions, like a whale on ground, Confound themselves with working.