Book: The Chevalier de Maison-Rouge

- Love crushes lattice
Taunts locks.
- Loren!
But it's so... I'm not saying that she loves them all. They are all going to love her. Everyone can see the sun, but the sun sees everyone.

Citizen Sanson, I have not read you the passage that, instead of offering you a pun.
Sanson tied him to the Board.
"So," continued Lauren, - when you die, you're supposed to shout something. Before shouting : "long live the King!", but the king is no more. Then shouted : "long live Freedom!", but freedom is no more. So - "long live Simon!", connecting the three of us.
And the head of a noble young man fell near the heads of Maurice and Genevieve!

Love can raise the soul to heroism, contrary to the natural instinct can kick a man to death, but she kept the fear and sadness.
<...>
She was more tormented by the feeling of suffering, because to leave this world - it means not only to fall into the abyss, the name of which is unknown, but also to suffer in the fall.

- I'll tell you what seems to me the most sad in all revolutions?
- Yes!
- The fact that enemies become those who would like to have friends, and friends of people...

When the play is over, dear friend,
From the stage to go out with you.

Such is the life-giving power of love. It quickens the heart, even the seemingly dead, in any life, it fills the void of the soul, awakens in her triumphant life, full of hope and happiness. It captures the feeling of loving to the end, blinding him. Nothing and no one he no longer sees except the beloved.

... So you - the instigator, the judge and the avenger at once. I must forgive you my death and I forgive her. I must thank you for what you deprive me of life. Because my life would have been unbearable to be separated from the only man I love, and you are his revenge severed all the ties that bind me to him.

- We're heads.
Don't worry about mine.
- I confess to you, sir, that you are not your head is the reason for my concern alive.
Is yours?
- Of course.
- I think it's not the biggest loss...
- Oh, sir, the head is a precious thing.

Love when you hold
we are in his hands,
To say goodbye can't we
no way.

The woman changes so often,
and the madman is the one who she trusts.

But no, my grief has no end.
What torch should I ask for?
Maurice, and thy fair enough,
in order to ignite
and the rest of the neighborhood and the city.
...
- Maurice, let's chase it down, become drunkards or will speak at meetings with different assumptions, we will begin to study political economy. But for God's sake, let's never fall in love. Let's love only the Freedom.
- Or The Mind.

- Alas! - she whispered, - a misfortune, as the blood of the ancient Hydra: it feeds a ton of new troubles!

From foolish base nature's fury is manifested in the same disgusting characteristics as intoxication.

Women have such a feature: the present is almost always to wipe out them the traces of the past and threats of the future.