Happiness Is Egotistical.

I Know What Happiness And What Despair Are, And I Never Make A Jest Of Such Feelings. Take It, Then, But In Exchange —

Your Life Story Is A Novel; And People, Though They Love Novels Wound Between Two Yellow Paper Covers, Are Oddly Suspicious Of Those Which Come To Them In Living Vellum.

Through The Ingenuousness Of Her Age Beamed An Ardent Mind, A Mind Not Of The Women But Of The Poet; She Did Not Please, She Intoxicated.

Life Is Very Tenacious In These Lawyers.

...but My Friends Call Me Edmund Dantes.