Forgiveness (n.) is easy enough to give to someone, but one cannot forgive the wrongdoer for the damage they have done to their own character.
Forgiveness (n.) is marked by a vengefulness, a egoism that impatiently and orgiastically yields to impulses.
Forgiveness (n.) is pleasanter to ask than to grant: the offender shows power, then character; the offended must forgive or seem inhumane.
Forgiveness (n.) is impossible to the rational man: if they know not what they do, there is nothing to forgive; and if they did know, we could forgive only if we had a right to accuse — which we lack.
Forgiveness (n.) from one who forgets nothing makes him doubly hated, for he shames you doubly — with his memory and his magnanimity.
Forgiveness (n.) from the petty covers only your mistakes; your virtues they punish.
Forgiveness (n.) is overcome by great love, which says: "I forgive you what you did to me; but that you did it to yourself — how could I forgive that!"
Forgiveness (n.) is the inability to take revenge, renamed the unwillingness to take it.
Forgiveness (n.) does not extinguish, punishment does not expiate: what is done is not undone, and a deed produces its consequences whether or not the church makes the doer a saint.
Forgiveness (n.) of all — "to understand all is to forgive all" — is the philosophy of disappointment: if something is to be forgiven in all, something may be despised in all.
Forgiveness (n.) of sin is how one explains recovery after exhaustion: "How can I feel so free, so redeemed? It is a miracle; only a god can have done that."
Forgiveness (n.) of one's enemies is child's play beside the ruler's virtues, which master even one's benevolence and pity — the Roman Caesar with Christ's soul.