With Renunciation Life Begins.

A Scholar's Heart Is A Dark Well In Which Are Buried Many Aborted Feelings That Rise To The Surface As Arguments.

I Judge People's Charm By The Ease With Which I Express Myself In Their Presence.

Doubt Seems The Only Purity For Those Who Are Too Fervent To Deny, And Too Lucid To Affirm.

A Thought Falls Like A Ripe Fruit From The Tree Of Idleness.

Time Engraves Our Faces With All The Tears We Have Not Shed.