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!
You May Also Like / View all maxioms
A guilty conscience never feels secure.
A guilty conscience never feels secure.
Men's minds are too ready to excuse guilt in themselves.
Men's minds are too ready to excuse guilt in themselves.
Alas! How difficult it is to prevent the countenance from
betraying guilt!
[Heu! quam difficile est crimen non read more
Alas! How difficult it is to prevent the countenance from
betraying guilt!
[Heu! quam difficile est crimen non prodere vultu.]
How glowing guilt exalts the keen delight!
How glowing guilt exalts the keen delight!
The more sinful and guilty a person tends to feel, the less chance there is that he will be a read more
The more sinful and guilty a person tends to feel, the less chance there is that he will be a happy, healthy, or law-abiding citizen. He will become a compulsive wrong-doer.
He who flees from trial confesses his guilt.
[Lat., Fatetur facinus is qui judicum fugit.]
He who flees from trial confesses his guilt.
[Lat., Fatetur facinus is qui judicum fugit.]
We are almost always guilty of the hate we encounter.
We are almost always guilty of the hate we encounter.
Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind.
Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind.
