“REMORSE. Remorse is memory awake, Her companies astir, – A presence of departed acts At window and at door. It’s past set down before the soul, And lighted with a match, Perusal to facilitate Of its condensed despatch. Remorse is cureless, – the disease Not even God can heal; For ‘t is his institution, – The complement of hell.”

“REMORSE. Remorse is memory awake, Her companies astir, – A presence of departed acts At window and at door. It’s past set down before the soul, And lighted with a match, Perusal to facilitate Of its condensed despatch. Remorse is cureless, – the disease Not even God can heal; For ‘t is his institution, – The complement of hell.”

— Emily Dickinson