I Loved You When You Were Unfaithful;

A Tragedy Need Not Have Blood And Death; It's Enough That It All Be Filled With That Majestic Sadness That Is The Pleasure Of Tragedy.

I Am A Man, And Nothing That Concerns A Man Do I Deem A Matter Of Indifference To Me.

Pain Is Unjust, And All The Arguments That Cannot Soothe It Only Rouse Suspicion.

My Death, Taking The Light From My Eyes, Gives Back To The Day The Purity Which They Soiled.

Disagreeable Suspicions Are Usually The Fruits Of A Second Marriage.