The Arrows Are From Her Dowry.

Poverty Is Bitter, But It Has No Harder Pang Than That It Makes Men Ridiculous.

Revenge Is Always The Weak Pleasure Of A Little And Narrow Mind.

Beasts Of Like Kind Will Spare Those Of Kindred Spots.

Trust Me No Tortures Which The Poets Feign Can Match The Fierce Unutterable Pain He Feels, Who Night And Day Devoid Of Rest Carries His Own Accuser In His Breast.

Every Crime Will Bring Remorse To The Man Who Committed It