By dying I wanted to maintain my honor, and hide a flame so black from the daylight!
All is asleep: the army, the wind, and Neptune.
Crime, like virtue, has its degrees.
Love is not a fire to be shut up in a soul. Everything betrays us: voice, silence, eyes; half-covered fires burn all the brighter.
A benefit cited by way of reproach is equivalent to an injury.
The face of tyranny Is always mild at first.