Can a faith that does nothing be called sincere?

I loved you when you were unfaithful; what would I have done if you were true?

Honor, without money, is a mere malady.

My only hope lies in my despair.

Wrinkles on the brow are the imprints of exploits.

He who will travel far spares his steed.

Hippolytus can feel, and feels nothing for me!