Life Is The Mistress To Be Wooed.

To Know The Pain Of Too Much Tenderness

For The Sight Of The Angry Weather Saddens My Soul And The Sight Of The Town, Sitting Like A Bereaved Mother Beneath Layers Of Ice, Oppresses My Heart.

For Truth And The Spirit Will Abide With The Morrow.

The Best Of Man Is He Who Blushes When You Praise Him And Remains Silent When You Defame Him.

And How Shall You Punish Those Whose Remorse Is Already Greater Than Their Misdeeds?