My Only Hope Lies In My Despair.

Some Smaller Crimes Always Precede The Great Crimes.

Crime, Like Virtue, Has Its Degrees.

Vice, Like Virtue, Grows In Small Steps, And No True Innocence Can Ever Fall At Once To Deepest Guilt.

What Does It Matter If, By Chance, A Little Vile Blood Be Spilled?

Wrinkles On The Brow Are The Imprints Of Exploits.