Where Love Is Absent There Can Be

We Do Not Precisely Enjoy Liberty At The Figaro. M. De Latouche, Our Worthy Director (ah! You Should Know The Fellow), Is Always Hanging Over Us, Cutting, Pruning, Right Or Wrong, Imposing Upon Us His Whims, His Aberrations, His Fancies, And We Have To Write As He Bids.

I Say, I Believe, That One Must Love With All Of One's Being.

Faith Is Like Love; When You Want It You Can't Find It, And You Find It When You Least Expect It.

I Was Born To Love - But None Of You Wanted To Believe It, And That Misunderstanding Was Crucial In Forming My Character. It's True That Nature Was Strangely Inconsistent In Giving Me A Warm Heart, But Also A Face That Was Like A Stone Mask And A Tongue That Was Heavy And Slow. She Refused Me What She Bestowed Freely On Even The Most Loutish Of My Fellow Men. . . . People Judged My Inner Character By My Outer Covering, And Like A Sterile Fruit, I Withered Under The Rough Husk I Couldn't Slough Off.

Let Us Accept Truth, Even When It Surprises Us And Alters Our Views.