He gave himself fully to the penitent life, fasting, praying, confessing his wickedness and execrating himself in public. He became a better man in the small matters of his days, an even better, wiser king in the great matters of state.

The common soldiers did not blame him for his excessive grief. They knew him. They knew his flaws. Indeed, I think they loved him all the more because he was flawed, as they were, and did not hide his passionate, blemished nature.

You don't need a prophet to tell you to eat.

This night he was a king before he was a man. At this time, this troubled me. Later, I would have cause to wish it were always so.

the heart of a prophet is not his own to bestow.

It is one thing to know what is to come. It is another thing to confront it.

It's remarkable how very many things there are that a king may not do.

He did wrong. He has acknowledged it before the people. He repents it. How many kings have the humility to do that?