O Heart! Love Is Thy Bane And

The Prayers Of A Lover Are More Imperious Than The Menaces Of The Whole World

The Capacity For Passion Is Both Cruel And Divine.

The Masses Are Still Ungrateful Or Ignorant. They Prefer Murder, Poisonings, And Crimes Generally To A Literature Possessed Of Style And Feeling.

We Do Not Die Of Anguish, We Live On. We Continue To Suffer. We Drink The Cup Drop By Drop.

Weeds Are Omnipresent; Errors Are To Be Found In The Heart Of The Most Lovable.