That is a long word: forever!
How many women does one need to sing the scale of love all the way up and down?
Death is the most blessed dream.
The stars are scattered all over the sky like shimmering tears, there must be great pain in the eye from which they trickled.
You women could make someone fall in love even with a lie.
There are only Epicureans, either crude or refined; Christ was the most refined.