If I Could Believe That

It Is A Maxim Of Old That Among Themselves All Things Are Common To Friends.

A Single Word Often Betrays A Great Design.

I Embrace My Rival, But Only To Strangle Him.

There May Be Guilt When There Is Too Much Virtue.

Love Is Not A Fire To Be Shut Up In A Soul. Everything Betrays Us: Voice, Silence, Eyes; Half-covered Fires Burn All The Brighter.