After the age of eighty, all contemporaries are friends.
Love without desire is a delusion: it does not exist in nature.
I have always sworn to my lovers to love them eternally, but for me eternity is a quarter of an hour.
What is death, after all? We leave only mortals behind us.
Oaths are the counterfeit money with which we pay the sacrifice of love.
The loss of friends is a tax on age!