Oh, Love Is Real Enough;

Tragedy Is Restful: And The Reason Is That Hope, That Foul, Deceitful Thing, Has No Part In It.

Until The Day Of His Death No Man Can Be Sure Of His Courage.

Oh, Love Is Real Enough; You Will Find It Someday, But It Has One Archenemy - And That Is Life.

Everything Ends This Way In France — Everything. Weddings, Christenings, Duels, Burials, Swindlings, Diplomatic Affairs — Everything Is A Pretext For A Good Dinner.

All Prisons Are Brimming Over With Innocence. It Is Those Who Cram Their Fellows Into Them, In The Name Of Empty Ideas, Who Are The Only Guilty Ones.