“Gretchen:My mother, the whore, Who put me to death! My father, the rogue,Who fed on my flesh! My sweet little sister, She buried my bones Beneath cool stones. Then I was a wood-bird gay;Fly away! Fly away!” -Faust by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
“ Macbeth: Whence is that knocking: How isn’t with me, when every noise appalls me? What hands are here? Ha! Pluck out mine Eyes!Will all great Neptune’s ocean wash this blood, Clean from my hand? No; this my hand will rather The multitudinous sea incarnadine, Making the green one red.”-Macbeth by William Shakespeare
"Blithe as you are, what could you know of shame,
grief, remorse- of midnight's vague alarms
that treat the heart like a much-crumpled page
to be discarded with the morning's trash?
Being so blithe, what do you know of shame?" - from Reversibility by Charles Baudelaire (it's gorgeous in French) |