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I felt for my crime a just terror I looked on my life with hate, and my passion with horror.

Jean Racine

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Jean Racine
Age: 59 †
Born: 1639
Born: December 1
Died: 1699
Died: April 21
Author
Dramatist
Historian
Librettist
Playwright
Poet
Translator
Writer
Ferté-Milon (La)
Jean Baptiste Racine
Jean-Baptiste Racine
Terror
Horror
Looked
Crime
Passion
Hate
Felt
Remorse
Life
Guilt

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Innocence has nothing to dread.
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Love is not a fire to be shut up in a soul. Everything betrays us: voice, silence, eyes half-covered fires burn all the brighter.
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The day is not purer than the depths of my heart.
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All is asleep: the army, the wind, and Neptune.
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Behind a veil, unseen yet present, I was the forceful soul that moved this mighty body.
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Felicity is in possession, happiness in anticipation.
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The principal rule of art is to please and to move. All the other rules were created to achieve this first one.
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By dying I wanted to maintain my honor, and hide a flame so black from the daylight!
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A noble heart cannot suspect in others the pettiness and malice that it has never felt.
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You who love wild passions, flee the holy austerity of my pleasures. All here breathes of God, peace and truth.
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Extreme justice is often injustice.
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On the throne, one has many worries and remorse is the one that weighs the least.
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To repair the irreparable ravages of time.
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Crime like virtue has its degrees and timid innocence was never known to blossom suddenly into extreme license.
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Flight is lawful, when one flies from tyrants.
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And forever goodbye! Forever! Oh, Sir, can you imagine how dreadful this cruel word sounds when one loves?
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Hell, covering all with its gloomy vapors, has cast shadows on even the holiest eyes.
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