Be The Flame, Not The

Love Is A Great Poet, Its Resources Are Inexhaustible, But If The End It Has In View Is Not Obtained, It Feels Weary And Remains Silent.

I Don't Conquer, I Submit.

From That Moment Our Love Became Sad, And Sadness Is A Disease Which Gives The Death-blow To Affection.

Beauty Without Wit Offers Nothing But The Enjoyment Of Its Material Charms, Whilst Witty Ugliness Captivates By The Charms Of The Mind, And At Last Fulfils All The Desires Of The Man It Has Captivated.

The Raging Fire Which Urged Us On Was Scorching Us; It Would Have Burned Us Had We Failed To Restrain It.