Confidence (n.) shared with you proves nothing about the speaker's integrity, and puts you under no duty to share one back.
Confidence (n.) rightly placed rests in the one thing that cannot be taken away: your own moral choice.
Confidence (n.) and caution are not opposites but partners: confident about what lies outside the will, and confident because cautious about what lies within.
Confidence (n.) belongs to every art within its own field — you are not afraid of being disconcerted when you write the name Dio.
A Confidence (n.) shared invites one back, and that reflex is how Roman soldiers in plain clothes trapped people: abuse Caesar first, wait for you to join in, then the chains.
Confidence (n.) comes with every art inside its own field: you would not fear writing the name Dion, because you studied writing — so why fear speaking, if you studied that?