The quarrels of lovers are the renewal of love.
When will the veil be lifted that casts so black a night over the universe? God of Israel, lift at last the gloom: For how long will you be hidden?
What does it matter if, by chance, a little vile blood be spilled?
Behind a veil, unseen yet present, I was the forceful soul that moved this mighty body.
Hippolytus can feel, and feels nothing for me!
He who will travel far spares his steed.