You Ask Me What Forces Me To

Love Is A Fault; So Be It.

Try As You Will, You Cannot Annihilate That Eternal Relic Of The Human Heart, Love.

The Man Who Does Not Know Other Languages, Unless He Is A Man Of Genius, Necessarily Has Deficiencies In His Ideas.

She Was Sad With An Obscure Sadness Of Which She Had Not The Secret Herself. There Was In Her Whole Person The Stupor Of A Life Ended But Never Commenced.

We Are Given Up To Those Gods, Those Monsters, Those Giants, — Our Thoughts.