Books have led some to learning and others to madness.

Suspicion is the cancer of friendship.

You keep to your own ways and leave mine to me.

Hope is incredible to the slave of grief.

I have taken pride in others, never in myself.

I freeze and burn, love is bitter and sweet, my sighs are tempests and my tears are floods, I am in ecstasy and agony, I am possessed by memories of her and I am in exile from myself.

And men go about to wonder at the heights of the mountains, and the mighty waves of the sea, and the wide sweep of rivers, and the circuit of the ocean, and the revolution of the stars, but themselves they consider not.