Regina

“True, now and again, out of sheer bitterness, I let my tongue wag; but there is something else at the bottom of my heart that makes me, willy nilly, rejoice or grieve with other folk. Nay, one cannot live quite separated from all.”
― Władysław Stanisław Reymont, Chłopi

“So 'twas I who pursued your man, was it? Yet there is none but knows how I always drove him from me! How, like a cur, he would whine outside my door, that he might have but the mere sight of a shoe of mine!—Yes, and he took hold of me by force, till I was bereft of sense, and let him do all his will, for my brains whirled.—And now will I tell you all the truth... but you will rue the telling! He loved me—loved me more than tongue can tell! And you he shrank from, even to loathing; his gorge, poor man! rose at the thought of your love; 'twas in his throat, as rancid reasty fat, ancient and musty and unbearable; and at the memory of you, he would spit with sheer disgust! Nay, not to see you any more, he willingly would have done himself a harm... You sought the truth; you have it now!—And, moreover, I will tell you—and do not forget it—if I should but say the word, when you would kiss his feet, he'd spurn you from him, and go following me throughout the world!—So weigh my words, and never dare to think yourself my equal.—Have you understood?”
― Władysław Stanisław Reymont, Chłopi

“¡Qué vidrios se me clavan en la lengua!
Porque yo quise olvidar y puse un muro de piedra entre tu casa y la mía.
Es verdad. ¿No lo recuerdas?
Y cuando te vi de lejos me eché en los ojos arena.
Pero montaba a caballo y el caballo iba a tu puerta.”
― Federico García Lorca, Bodas de sangre

“Y el orden no desaparecerá con el verdugo. No lo creáis. La bóveda de la sociedad futura no se desplomará por no contar con esa piedra angular. La civilización no es más que una serie de transformaciones sucesivas. ¿A qué váis a asistir? A la transformación de la penalidad. La dulce ley de Cristo penetrará por fin en el código y radiará sobre él. Se contemplará el crimen como una enfermedad, y esta enfermedad tendrá sus propios medicamentos, que reemplazrán a vuestros jueces, y sus propios hospitales, que reemplazarán a vuestras prisiones. La libertad y la salud se parecerán. Se verterá el bálsamo y el aceite allí donde se aplicaba el hierro y el fuego. Trataremos con caridad ese mal que se trataba con cólera. Será sencillo y sublime. La cruz sustituirá al patíbulo. Eso es todo.”
― Victor Hugo