Charles Caleb Colton Quotes

In suffocating the voice of conscience, passion carries with itself a restlessness of the body and the senses: it is the restlessness of the "external man." When the internal man has been reduced to silence, then passion, once it has been given freedom of action, so to speak, exhibits itself as an insistent tendency to satisfy the senses and the body.

Give not thyself up, then, to fire, lest it invert thee, deaden thee, as for the time it did me. There is a wisdom that is woe; but there is a woe that is madness.

He whom passion rules, is bent to meet his death.

Conscience is the voice of the soul, the passions are the voice of the body. It is strange that these voices often contradict each other?

Passion is always a mystery and unaccountable, and unfortunately there is no doubt that life does not spare its purest children; often it is just the most deserving people who cannot help loving those that destroy them.

Were Guilt is, Rage and Courage doth abound.

Beholding heaven, and feeling hell.

I just want some time, Mikhail, to think things through. It’s frightening, the way I am about you. I think about you every minute; I want to touch you, just to know I can, to feel you beneath my fingers. It’s as if you crawled into my head and my heart, even my body, and I can’t get you out.

Angry men make themselves beds of nettles.

Desire, even in its wildest tantrums, can neither persuade me it is love nor stop me from wishing it were.

He had been driven hither by the impulse of that Remorse which dogged him everywhere, and whose own sister and closely linked companion was that Cowardice which invariably drew him back, with her tremulous gripe, just when the other impulse had hurried him to the verge of a disclosure.

My arms are up to the elbows in blood. That is the most terrible thing that lies in my soul.

Wise people may say what they will, but one passion is never cured by another.

My conscience aches but it's going to lose the fight.

The man who has a conscience suffers whilst acknowledging his sin. That is his punishment.

If one lets fear or hate or anger take possession of the mind, they become self-forged chains.

So much wanting and longing, clutching, desiring, passion and hatred and terrible need. Here, death was suitable, there was room for it, the grip of life's relentless urges slackened, replaced by this icy simplicity. This wasnt her death. It was his. That was the sad and honest truth. Though it would stay with her, it would be more like a black onyx heart on a silver chain, worn privately, under her clothes, close to her body, all her life. The guilt, the beauty, everything. It wasnt over, it had only begun. Well ok then, Okay.

Nothing is more seductive for a man than his freedom of conscience, but nothing is a greater cause of suffering.

For Reason, ruling alone, is a force confining; and Passion, unattended, is a flame that burns to its own destruction.

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them?

I am dragged along by a strange new force. Desire and reason are pulling in different directions. I see the right way and approve it, but follow the wrong.

Vengeance taken will often tear the heart and torment the conscience.

I had a little sorrow, Born of a little sin.