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.
The part I remember best is the beginning.
A noble heart cannot suspect in others the pettiness and malice that it has never felt.
Hippolytus can feel, and feels nothing for me!
Behind a veil, unseen yet present, I was the forceful soul that moved this mighty body.
I can hear those glances that you think are silent.