Books Follow Morals, And Not Morals Books.

Fortune Loves To Give Bedroom Slippers To People With Wooden Legs, And Gloves To Those With No Hands.

Those Horses Must Have Been Spanish Jennets, Born Of Mares Mated With A Zephyr; For They Went As Swiftly As The Wind, And The Moon, Which Had Risen At Our Departure To Give Us Light, Rolled Through The Sky Like A Wheel Detached From Its Carriage.

Yes I Have Loved, As No One On Earth Ever Loved, With An Insensate And Furious Love, So Violent That I Wonder It Did Not Break My Heart

What I Write Is Not For Little Girls.

I Am One Of Those For Whom Superfluity Is A Necessity.