Beauty Is A Perilous Gift.

I Have Always Known That The Best Of The Saracens Could Out-christian Many Of Us Christians.

Despair Is Deadly Sin, But Worse, It Is Mortal Folly.

Every Spring Is The Only Spring, A Perpetual Astonishment.

In The End There Is Nothing To Be Done But To State Clearly What Has Been Done, Without Shame Or Regret, And Say: Here I Am, And This Is What I Am. Now Deal With Me As You See Fit. That Is Your Right. Mine Is To Stand By The Act, And Pay The Price. You Do What You Must Do, And Pay For It. So In The End All Things Are Simple.

Even A Saint May Take Pleasure, In Retrospect, In Having Been Once Desired