Follow me, reader! Who told you that there is no true, faithful, eternal love in this world! May the liar's vile tongue be cut out! Follow me, my reader, and me alone, and I will show you such a love!

The darkness that had come in from the Mediterranean covered the city so detested by the procurator.

You are not Dostoevsky,' said the woman... 'You never can tell...' he answered. 'Dostoevsky is dead,' the woman said, a bit uncertainly. 'I protest!' he said with heat, 'Dostoevsky is immortal!

the hope that there she would manage to regain her happiness made her fearless

The tongue may hide the truth but the eyes—never!

Who ever told you there is no such thing in the world as real, true, everlasting love? May the liar have his despicable tongue cut out!

just like a murderer jumps of nowhere in an ally, love jumped out in front of us and struck us both at once