When Women Love, They Forgive Everything...

The Pleasures Of Love Proceed Successively From A Distich To A Quatrain, From A Quatrain To A Sonnet, From A Sonnet To A Ballad, From A Ballad To An Ode, From An Ode To A Cantata, And From A Cantata To A Dithyramb. A Husband Who Begins With The Dithyramb Is A Fool.

You May Imitate, But Never Counterfeit.

We Do Not Attach Ourselves Lastingly To Anything That Has Not Cost Us Care, Labor Or Longing.

The Greatest Tyranny Is To Love I Where We Are Not Loved Again.

A Flow Of Words Is A Sure Sign Of Duplicity.