Comte De Monte Cristo

Here rests the thoughts of an immortal, making of what the world hath thrown at him.

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Location: Paris, Island of Monte Cristo, Singapore

"My dear count," cried Morcerf, "you are at fault--you, one of the most formidable logicians I know--and you must see it clearly proved that instead of being an egotist, you are a philanthropist. Ah, you call yourself Oriental, a Levantine, Maltese, Indian, Chinese; your family name is Monte Cristo; Sinbad the Sailor is your baptismal appellation, and yet the first day you set foot in Paris you instinctively display the greatest virtue, or rather the chief defect, of us eccentric Parisians,--that is, you assume the vices you have not, and conceal the virtues you possess."

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Étude No.8 in E Op.10 No.3

To my dear Albert,

Happy birthday. By the time you read this, I will most likely not be by your side. So, hear me out instead of receiving a present. Albert, listen. Don't ever hate anyone. You know, I think both hate and love stem from how deeply we care for someone. Sadly, enough there are times where our feelings may not reach the person and our love turns to hate. In times like those, I want you to remember our childhood, when no matter how badly we were hurt, we could only continue to love. Please continue to live on without hate. I was truly happy knowing you.

-Franz d'Epinay

posted by Purry The Magnificent | 10:17 PM

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