But mine, and mine I loved, and mine I praised,
And mine that I was proud on--mine so much
That I myself was to myself not mine,
Valuing of her--why she, O, she is fall'n
Into a pit of ink, that the wide sea
Hath drops too few to wash her clean again,
And salt too little which may season give
To her foul tainted flesh!
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However boldly their warm blood was spilt,
Their life was shame, their epitaph was guilt;
And this read more
However boldly their warm blood was spilt,
Their life was shame, their epitaph was guilt;
And this they knew and felt, at least the one,
The leader of the hand he had undone,--
Who, born for better things, had madly set
His life upon a cast, which linger'd yet.
Guilt is the source of sorrows, the avenging fiend that follows us behind with whips and stings.
Guilt is the source of sorrows, the avenging fiend that follows us behind with whips and stings.
One who condones evils is just as guilty as the one who perpetrates it.
One who condones evils is just as guilty as the one who perpetrates it.
He who flees from trial confesses his guilt.
He who flees from trial confesses his guilt.
Guilt is anger directed at ourselves.
Guilt is anger directed at ourselves.
Every man is guilty of all the good he didn't do.
Every man is guilty of all the good he didn't do.
He is not guilty who is not guilty of his own free will.
[Lat., Haud est nocens, quicumque non read more
He is not guilty who is not guilty of his own free will.
[Lat., Haud est nocens, quicumque non sponte est nocens.]
Those who guilt stains it equals.
[Lat., Facinus quos inquinat aequat.]
Those who guilt stains it equals.
[Lat., Facinus quos inquinat aequat.]
Every guilty person is his own hangman.
Every guilty person is his own hangman.
