With a few flowers in my garden, half a dozen pictures and some books, I live without envy.
Harmony is pure love, for love is a concerto.
All right, then, I'll say it: Dante makes me sick.
But life is short: while one lives, everything is lacking; when one is dead, everything is superfluous.
There is no greater glory than love, nor any greater punishment than jealousy.
Dreaming of a tomorrow, which tomorrow, will be as distant then as 'tis today.