There Is No Greater Folly In The

For Hope Is Always Born At The Same Time As Love.

She Wanted, With Her Fickleness, To Make My Destruction Constant; I Want, By Trying To Destroy Myself, To Satisfy Her Desire.

The Pen Is The Language Of The Soul; As The Concepts That In It Are Generated, Such Will Be Its Writings.

Wit And Humor Do Not Reside In Slow Minds.

He Who Gives Early Gives Twice.