On the throne, one has many worries; and remorse is the one that weighs the least.

I felt for my crime a just terror; I looked on my life with hate, and my passion with horror.

And do you count for nothing God who fights for us?

Have there ever been more submissive slaves? Adoring, even in their irons, the God who punishes them.

I can hear those glances that you think are silent.

There may be guilt when there is too much virtue.

Honor, without money, is a mere malady.