How Easy Love Makes Fools Of Us.

Birth Is Nothing Without Virtue, And We Have No Claim To Share In The Glory Of Our Ancestors Unless We Endeavor To Resemble Them.

All Which Is Not Prose Is Verse; And All Which Is Not Verse Is Prose.

Birth Means Nothing Where There Is No Virtue.

[dom Juan] Believes Neither In Heaven, Nor The Saints, Nor God, Nor The Werewolf.

The Absence Of The Beloved, Short Though It May Last, Always Lasts Too Long.