Not With Whom You Are Born, But

A Private Sin Is Not So Prejudicial In This World, As A Public Indecency.

A Knight Errant Who Turns Mad For A Reason Deserves Neither Merit Nor Thanks. The Thing Is To Do It Without Cause

Love Is Invisible And Comes And Goes Where It Wants, Without Anyone Asking About It.

The Pen Is The Tongue Of The Soul; As Are The Thoughts Engendered There, So Will Be The Things Written.

It Is Not The Responsibility Of Knights Errant To Discover Whether The Afflicted, The Enchained And The Oppressed Whom They Encounter On The Road Are Reduced To These Circumstances And Suffer This Distress For Their Vices, Or For Their Virtues: The Knight's Sole Responsibility Is To Succour Them As People In Need, Having Eyes Only For Their Sufferings, Not For Their Misdeeds.