The May Of Life Blooms Once And

Why Should I Deem Myself To Be A Chisel, When I Could Be The Artist?

Fate Always Wins, For Our Own Heart Within Us Imperiously Furthers Its Designs.

Physical Beauty Is The Sign Of An Interior Beauty, A Spiritual And Moral Beauty Which Is The Basis, The Principle, And The Unity Of The Beautiful.

The Dictates Of The Heart Are The Voice Of Fate.

Gray Hairs Are Death's Blossoms.