As our self-interests differ, so do our feelings.
How sweet to die after one’s enemies.
The people you killed seem to be in excellent health.
Death was to be my glory, but destiny has refused it.
I would tell you I love you, Sir, if I knew what it was to love.
Ah, though a Roman, I am not less a man.
It is an imprudence common to kings to listen to too much advice and to err in their choice.
One doesn’t wish to see those to whom one owes so much.
Rome alone can resist Rome.
In the service of Caesar, everything is legitimate.
It is a crime against the State to be powerful enough to commit one.
Master of the universe but not of myself, I am the only rebel against my absolute power.
My reason, it’s true, controls my feelings, but whatever its authority, it doesn’t rule them so much as tyrannize them.
Oh rage! Oh despair! Oh age, my enemy!
A true king is neither husband nor father; he considers his throne and nothing else.
When the patient loves his disease, how unwilling he is to allow a remedy to be applied.
There are secret ties, there are sympathies, by the sweet relationship of which souls that are well matched attach themselves to each other, and are affected by I know not what, which cannot be explained.
Violence is just, where kindness is vain.
Just vengeance does not call for punishment.
We triumph without glory when we conquer without danger.