“I'm really very sorry for you all, but it's an unjust world, and virtue is triumphant only in theatrical performances.”

“I'm really very sorry for you all, but it's an unjust world, and virtue is triumphant only in theatrical performances.”

“And the next day the gondolier came with a train of other gondoliers, all decked in their holiday garb, and on his gondola sat Angela, happy, and blushing at her happiness. Then he and she entered the house in which I dwelt, and came into my room (and it was strange indeed, after so many years of inversion, to see her with her head above her feet!), and then she wished me happiness and a speedy restoration to good health (which could never be); and I in broken words and with tears in my eyes, gave her the little silver crucifix that had stood by my bed or my table for so many years. And Angela took it reverently, and crossed herself, and kissed it, and so departed with her delighted husband.And as I heard the song of the gondoliers as they went their way--the song dying away in the distance as the shadows of the sundown closed around me--I felt that they were singing the requiem of the only love that had ever entered my heart.”

“I am an acquired taste.”

“Crushed again!”

“I'm really very sorry for you all, but it's an unjust world, and virtue is triumphant only in theatrical performances.”

“Oh, dry the glistening tear that dues that marshal cheekThy loving childern here in them thy comfort seek With sympathetic care their arms around the creep, For oh they can not bear to see their father weep”