Does Not Any Limit Imposed

Genuine Sorrows Are Very Tranquil In Appearance In The Deep Bed They Have Dug For Themselves. But, Seeming To Slumber, They Corrode The Soul Like That Frightful Acid Which Penetrates Crystal.

A Woman's Sentimental Monkeyshines Will Always Deceive Her Lover, Who Invariably Waxes Ecstatic Where Her Husband Necessarily Shrugs His Shoulders.

Neither The Passions Not Justice Nor Politics Nor The Great Social Forces Ever Consider The Victims They Strike.

Nothing Is As Heady As The Wine Of Misfortune.

The Fact Is That Love Is Of Two Kinds, One Which Commands, And One Which Obeys. The Two Are Quite Distinct, And The Passion To Which The One Gives Rise Is Not The Passion Of The Other.