Paris, Like Every Pretty Woman,

Political Liberty, The Peace Of A Nation, And Science Itself Are Gifts For Which Fate Demands A Heavy Tax In Blood!

Love Passes Quickly, And Passes Like A Street Arab, Anxious To Mark His Way With Mischief.

In Paris, The Greatest Expression Of Personal Satisfaction Known To Man Is The Smirk On The Face Of A Male, Highly Pleased With Himself As He Leaves The Boudoir Of A Lady.

What Makes Friendship Indissolute And What Doubles Its Charms Is A Feeling We Find Lacking In Love: I Mean Certitude.

Innocence Alone Dares Commit Certain Acts Of Audacity. Virtue, When Tutored, Is As Calculating As Vice.