I Am A Count, Not A Saint.

The Wretched And Miserable Should Turn To Their Saviour First, Yet They Do Not Hope In Him Until All Other Hope Is Exhausted.

Yet Man Will Never Be Perfect Until He Learns To Create And Destroy; He Does Know How To Destroy, And That Is Half The Battle.

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!

What A Fool I Was, Not To Tear My Heart Out On The Day When I Resolved To Revenge Myself!

I Am Not Proud, But I Am Happy; And Happiness Blinds, I Think, More Than Pride.