Serenely full, the epicure would say,

Fate cannot harm me,—I have dined to-day.

Sydney Smith (1769-1845): Recipe for Salad. P. 374.

And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,

The instruments of darkness tell us truths,

Win us with honest trifles, to betray's

In deepest consequence.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Macbeth. Act i. Sc. 3.