Sir, that much prudence calls for too much worry; I cannot foresee misfortunes so far away.

I embrace my rival, but only to strangle him.

Felicity is in possession, happiness in anticipation.

Often it is fatal to live too long.

What does it matter if, by chance, a little vile blood be spilled?

My death, taking the light from my eyes, gives back to the day the purity which they soiled.

The joys of the evil flow away like a torrent.