Crime, Like Virtue, Has Its Degrees.

And Forever Goodbye! Forever! Oh, Sir, Can You Imagine How Dreadful This Cruel Word Sounds When One Loves?

I Have Loved Him Too Much Not To Hate

Crime, Like Virtue, Has Its Degrees.

Love Is Not A Fire To Be Shut Up In A Soul. Everything Betrays Us: Voice, Silence, Eyes; Half-covered Fires Burn All The Brighter.

He Who Laughs On Friday Will Weep On Sunday.