Would Hamlet have felt the delicious fascination of suicide if he hadn't had an audience, and lines to speak?
The pimp has a grin, never a smile.
I give the name violence to a boldness lying idle and enamored of danger.
There is a close relationship between flowers and convicts. The fragility and delicacy of the former are of the same nature as the brutal insensitivity of the latter.
Anyone who knows a strange fact shares in its singularity.
It's a true image, born of a false spectacle.