One Drop Of Wine Is Enough To

Every Body Drags Its Shadow, And Every Mind Its Doubt.

In The Opera We Call Love, The Libretto Is Almost Nothing.

God Has Set His Intentions In The Flowers, In The Dawn, In The Spring, It Is His Will That We Should Love.

Virtue Has A Veil, Vice A Mask.

The Saints Were His Friends, And Blessed Him; The Monsters Were His Friends, And Guarded Him.