A tardy vengeance shares the tyrant's guilt.
Joys season'd high, and tasting strong of guilt.
He that's ungrateful has no guilt but one; All other crimes may pass for virtues in him.
A land of levity is a land of guilt.
Let no man trust the first false step of guilt; it hangs upon a precipice, whose steep descent in last perdition ends.
Where, where for shelter shall the guilty fly, When consternation turns the good man pale?