I Am A Count, Not A Saint.

Wait And Hope!

The Air In Provence Is Impregnated With The Aroma Of Garlic, Which Makes It Very Healthful To Breathe.

Starvation!" Exclaimed The Abbe, Springing From His Seat. "why, The Vilest Animals Are Not Suffered To Die By Such A Death As That. The Very Dogs That Wander Houseless And Homeless In The Streets Find Some Pitying Hand To Cast Them A Mouthful Of Bread; And That A Man, A Christian, Should Be Allowed To Perish Of Hunger In The Midst Of Other Men Who Call Themselves Christians, Is Too Horrible For Belief. Oh, It Is Impossible - Utterly Impossible!

Life Is A Storm. One Minute You Will Bathe Under The Sun And The Next You Will Be Shattered Upon The Rocks. That's When You Shout, "do Your Worst, For I Will Do Mine!" And You Will Be Remembered Forever.

Misfortune Does Not Help Us To Believe.