Love Is A Game In Which One

Society Is No More Indulgent Than Was The God Of Genesis.

But Reason Always Cuts A Poor Figure Beside Sentiment; The One Being Essentially Restricted, Like Everything That Is Positive, While The Other Is Infinite.

True Lovers Know How Trifling A Thing Is Money Yet How Difficult To Blend With Love!

One Day, About The Middle Of July 1838, One Of The Carriages, Lately Introduced To Paris Cabstands, And Known As Milords, Was Driving Down The Rue De L'universite, Conveying A Stout Man Of Middle Height In The Uniform Of A Captain Of The National Guard.

An Unfulfilled Vocation Drains The Color From A Man's Entire Existence.