Guilt agonizes over trifles, ignores habitual wrongdoing.

Every lover's lament has an element of boasting.

Reputation runs behind the current state of affairs.

Envy awakens at the sound of a distant laugh.

I am never more myself than in my self-betrayals.

After Voltaire: envy is chained to the portico of the temple of glory and can neither enter nor leave.

With age, the mind grows slower and more wily.