Let him that sows the serpent's teeth not hope to reap a joyous harvest. Every crime has, in the moment of its perpetration, its own avenging angel,--dark misgivings at the inmost heart.

I feel an army in my fist.

Opposition always inflames the enthusiast, never converts him.

What reason, like the careful ant, draws laboriously together, the wind of accident sometimes collects in a moment.

When the wine goes in, strange things come out.

It is criminal to steal a purse, daring to steal a fortune, a mark of greatness to steal a crown. The blame diminishes as the guilt increases.

To rankling poison hast thou turned in me the milk of human kindness.