In My Flowery Dreams There's Always You.

I Can't Help It, The Idea Of The Infinite Torments Me.

The Heart That Once Has Been Your Shrine For Other Loves Is Too Divine

If Love Is A Play, This Play, As Old As The World, Fiasco Or Not, It Is, All In All, The Least Bad Thing That Has So Far Been Found. The Roles Are Trite, I Admit, But If The Play Had No Value The Whole Universe Wouldn’t Know It By Heart

Perfection Does Not Exist; To Understand It Is The Triumph Of Human Intelligence; To Expect To Possess It Is The Most Dangerous Kind Of Madness.

Know That There Is Often Hidden In Us A Dormant Poet, Always Young And Alive.