Death Was To Be My

These Flattering Mirrors Reflect Imperfectly What Is Within; The Countenance Is Often A Gay Deceiver. What Defects Of Mind Lie Hidden Under Its Beauty! What Fair Exteriors Conceal Base Souls!

He Should Be Envied Who When His Strength Is Spent Lays Down His Life. Old Age Reserves A Melancholy Fate For Noble Souls Before Their Life Is Done.

There Are Secret Ties, There Are Sympathies, By The Sweet Relationship Of Which Souls That Are Well Matched Attach Themselves To Each Other, And Are Affected By I Know Not What, Which Cannot Be Explained

The Man Who Pardons Easily Courts Injury.

My Sweetest Hope Is To Lose Hope