I Have Loved Him Too Much Not

There May Be Guilt When There Is Too Much Virtue.

You Who Love Wild Passions, Flee The Holy Austerity Of My Pleasures. All Here Breathes Of God, Peace And Truth.

Honor, Without Money, Is A Mere Malady.

It Is A Maxim Of Old That Among Themselves All Things Are Common To Friends.

Can A Faith That Does Nothing Be Called Sincere?