The quarrels of lovers are the renewal of love.
He who will travel far spares his steed.
The heart that can no longer love passionately must with fury hate.
What does it matter if, by chance, a little vile blood be spilled?
And forever goodbye! Forever! Oh, Sir, can you imagine how dreadful this cruel word sounds when one loves?
I will die if I lose you, but I will die if I wait longer.