I Cannot Help It - In Spite

Nothing Is A Sin When You Obey The Orders Of A Priest

It Was One Of Those Somber Evenings When The Sighing Of The Wind Resembles The Moans Of A Dying Man; A Storm Was Brewing, And Between The Splashes Of Rain On The Windows There Was The Silence Of Death. All Nature Suffers In Such Moments; The Trees Writhe In Pain And Twist Their Heads; The Birds Of The Fields Cower Under The Bushes; The Streets Of Cities Are Deserted.

One Must Not Trifle With Love

Alas, Everything That Men Say To One Another Is Alike; The Ideas They Exchange Are Almost Always The Same, In Their Conversation. But Inside All Those Isolated Machines, What Hidden Recesses, What Secret Compartments! It Is An Entire World That Each One Carries Within Him, An Unknown World That Is Born And Dies In Silence! What Solitudes All These Human Bodies Are!

Repartee Is Altogether A Natural Endowment, And Is The Lightning Of The Mind.