No One Becomes Depraved All At Once.

The Smell Of Money Is Good, Come Whence It May. [alluding To Vespasian's Tax On Ordure.]

There's No Effrontery Like That Of A Woman Caught In The Act; Her Very Guilt Inspires Her With Wrath And Insolence.

He Who Meditates A Crime Secretly Within Himself Has All The Guilt Of The Act.

What Is More Cruel Than A Tyrant's Ear?

Rare Is The Union Of Beauty And Purity. [lat., Rara Est Adeo Concordia Formae Atque Pudicitiae.]