Monsieur' To A Convict Is

Love Resembles A Tree: It Bends Under Its Own Weight, Deeply Rooted In Our Being And Sometimes Turns Green In The Ruins Of A Heart.

Nothing Is So Stifling As Symmetry. Symmetry Is Boredom, The Quintessence Of Mourning. Despair Yawns. There Is Something More Terrible Than A Hell Of Suffering - A Hell Of Boredom.

If We Must Suffer, Let Us Suffer Nobly.

Religion, Society, And Nature--these Are The Three Struggles Of Man.

Her Soul Trembled On Her Lips Like A Drop Of Dew On A Flower.