Out in the street it seemed to Rieux that the night was full of whispers. Somewhere in the black depths above the street-lamps there was a low soughing that brought to his mind that unseen flail threshing incessantly the languid air of which Paneloux had spoken.

Ignota navitas
Occulta Mors

…he now all at once, while he rode, encased himself, body and soul, in the iron creed of the fatalist; and connecting destiny in his mind with the inferred will of God, defied any missile to touch him, unless it should come with the warrant of a providential and foregone decree.

C’est magnifique — mais ce n’est pas le guerre.

A damp heart must be a foul thing to be sure. But who ever heard of one?

They say a Witch will sail in a Sieve — But I believe the Devil wou’d not venture aboard o’your Conscience.

Ashes always come after Blaze.

A Nymph and a Swain to Apollo once pray’d,
The Swain had been jilted, the Nymph been betray’d:
Their Intent was to try if his Oracle knew
E’er a Nymph that was Chaste, or a Swain that was true.

Apollo was mute, and had like t’have been pos’d,
But sagely at length he this Secret disclos’d:
He alone won’t betray in whom none will Confide:
And the Nymph may be Chaste that has never been try’d.

O see me no more,— for thou wert born amongst Rocks, suckl’d by Whales, cradled in a Tempest, and whistled to by the Winds; and thou art come forth with Fins and Scales, and three Rows of Teeth, a most outragious Fish of Prey.

Valentine: …I lov’d a Woman, and lov’d her so long, that I found out a strange thing: I found out what a Woman was good for.
Tattle: Ay, prithee, what’s that?
Valentine: Why, to keep a Secret.
Tattle: O Lord!
Valentine: O exceeding good to keep a Secret: For tho’ she should tell, yet she is not to be believ’d.