Here pity only lives when it is dead - Virgil

If you're asking for a date, forget it. 'Cause I make it a point not to go out with women who shoot me in the head!

No one thinks of how much blood it costs.

Doubting pleases me no less than knowing

Love and the gentle heart are but the same thing.

Pure essence, and pure matter, and the two joined into one were shot forth without flaw, like three bright arrows from a three-string bow.

And when he had put his hand on mine with a cheerful look, wherefrom I took courage, he brought me within to the secret things. Here sighs, laments, and deep wailings were resounding through the starless air; wherefore at first I wept thereat. Strange tongues, horrible utterances, words of woe, accents of anger, voices high and faint, and sounds of hands with them, were making a tumult which whirls always in that air forever dark, like the sand when the whirlwind breathes.