At certain moments, words are nothing; it is thetone in which they are uttered.
It is vain to try to sacrifice once for all one’syouthful ideals.
Flirting is the sin of the virtuous and the virtue of thesinful.
Even after making up one’s mind to the sacrifices Ihad decided upon, there is always left a trace of envyfor those who have triumphed in the melancholystruggle for literary supremacy
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