Behind A Veil, Unseen Yet Present, I

I Have Loved Him Too Much Not To Hate

Crime Like Virtue Has Its Degrees; And Timid Innocence Was Never Known To Blossom Suddenly Into Extreme License.

Wrinkles On The Brow Are The Imprints Of Exploits.

Do You Think You Can Be Righteous And Holy With Impunity?

Love Is Not A Fire To Be Shut Up In A Soul. Everything Betrays Us: Voice, Silence, Eyes; Half-covered Fires Burn All The Brighter.