Oh! The Good Times When We Were

I Have Always Had More Dread Of A Pen, A Bottle Of Ink, And A Sheet Of Paper Than Of A Sword Or Pistol.

Edmond Dantes: I Don't Believe In God. Abbe Faria: That Doesn't Matter, He Believes In You.

You Who Weep For Pleasures Fled, While Dragging On A Life Of Care, All Your Woes Will Melt In Air, If To God Your Tears Are Shed, You Who Weap!

I Am Hungry, Feed Me; I Am Bored, Amuse Me.

Why Do You Mention My Father?' Screamed He; 'why Do You Mingle A Recollection Of Him With The Affairs Of Today?' Because I Am He Who Saved Your Father's Life When He Wished To Destroy Himself, As You Do Today-because I Am The Man Who Sent The Purse To Your Young Sister, And The Paraon To Old Morrel-because I Am The Edmond Dantes Who Nursed You, A Child, On My Knees.