In Revenge And In Love, Woman Is

I Overcame Myself, The Sufferer; I Carried My Own Ashes To The Mountains; I Invented A Brighter Flame For Myself.

...lust Is Only A Sweet Poison For The Weakling, But For Those Who Will With A Lion's Heart It Is The Reverently Reserved Wine Of Wines.

In The End We Love Our Desire And Not What It Is That We Desire.

Cows Sometimes Wear An Expression Resembling Wonderment Arrested On Its Way To Becoming A Question. In The Eye Of Superior Intelligence, On The Other Hand, Lies The Nil Admirari Spread Out Like The Monotony Of A Cloudless Sky.

Let That Day Be Lost To Us On Which We Did Not Dance Once!