It is only the dead who do not return.
True, I have raped history, but it has produced some beautiful offspring.
You who weep for pleasures fled, While dragging on a life of care, All your woes will melt in air, If to god your tears are shed, You who Weap!
Sometimes one has suffered enough to have the right to never say: I am too happy.
that Englishman who came to challenge me three or four months ago, and whom I killed to stop him bothering me
Happiness is egotistical.