We Do Not Die Of

Love Without Reverence And Enthusiasm Is Only Friendship.

Sorrow Makes Us Very Good Or Very Bad.

We Do Not Precisely Enjoy Liberty At The Figaro. M. De Latouche, Our Worthy Director (ah! You Should Know The Fellow), Is Always Hanging Over Us, Cutting, Pruning, Right Or Wrong, Imposing Upon Us His Whims, His Aberrations, His Fancies, And We Have To Write As He Bids.

Years Do Not Always Make Age.

... The Progress Of The Language Has Caused Us To Lose Many Old Treasures. It Is Thus With All Progress, And One Must Make The Best Of It.