Above All Things, I Must Not Get

Our Castle Is Not Imposing, But Is Well Built, And Surrounded By A Very Fine Garden. I Live In The Bailiff's House.

When I Wished To Sing Of Love, It Turned To Sorrow. And When I Wished To Sing Of Sorrow, It Was Transformed For Me Into Love.

No One Really Understands The Grief Or Joy Of Another. We Always Imagine That We Are Approaching Some Other, But Our Lines Of Travel Are Actually Parallel.

When All Hopes Of Recognition Or Honor Have Faded Into Distant Memory, When Purity Of Heart Meets Sorrow Of Mind, When All The World Seems To Walk In Blindness And Yet A Man Works Without Wearying For That Which He Loves...only In This Moment Is Passion Truly Understood

No One Feels Another's Grief.