He Who Has Far To Ride Spares

Honor, Without Money, Is A Mere Malady.

The Joys Of The Evil Flow Away Like A Torrent.

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

The Quarrels Of Lovers Are The Renewal Of Love.

I Felt For My Crime A Just Terror; I Looked On My Life With Hate, And My Passion With Horror.