None love, but they who wish to love.

Love is not dumb. The heart speaks many ways.

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

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

Vice, like virtue, Grows in small steps, and no true innocence Can ever fall at once to deepest guilt.

Often it is fatal to live too long.

My only hope lies in my despair.