I Will Die If I Lose You,

The Quarrels Of Lovers Are The Renewal Of Love.

She Wavers, She Hesitates; In One Word — She Is A Woman.

How Good Is God! How Sweet His Yoke!

My Death, Taking The Light From My Eyes, Gives Back To The Day The Purity Which They Soiled.

He Who Laughs On Friday Will Weep On Sunday.