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Shame, like beauty, is often in the eye of the beholder.

There is no shame like poor shame. It can make you warm and charming, bitter and resentful, all at once.

Whoever blushes is already guilty; true innocence is ashamed of nothing.

Girls blush, sometimes, because they are alive, half wishing they were dead to save the shame. The sudden blush devours them, neck and brow; They have drawn too near the fire of life, like gnats, and flare up bodily, wings and all. What then? Who's sorry for a gnat or girl?

I was beautiful. Now, because I am old, I take no shame in so saying.

You can only perceive real beauty in a person as they get older.

No lie ever reaches old age.

What is the evolutionary value of blushing? It seems not to be to our advantage to do it, to involuntarily reveal our inner emotions. If we're trying to manipulate or lie, actions in furtherance of individual goals as opposed to the goals of others, blushing would not seem to be helpful. And yet everyone blushes, except the psychopath.

Shame is such an intense emotion. It just can drive you.