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 joys of the evil flow away like a torrent.

I embrace my rival, but only to strangle him.

Sun, I come to see you for the last time.

My death, taking the light from my eyes, gives back to the day the purity which they soiled.

I can hear those glances that you think are silent.

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