You are asking me about the tonics, it is but natural that I want them. But I want them from your formula, of your make. Let them come in the form of affection, dedication and love; let them come in the shape of your photos. All this tonifies me more than all the rest, which you may desire to send.

The sacred fire, emblem of common, patrilineal ancestry, was kept perpetually burning on the akropoleis of a thousand cities, focusing (“focus” was the Roman word for this flame) the loyalty of a still tribal people.

A black teresa, thrown round her shoulders, set off the dazzling whiteness of a neck, rounded by the hands of the graces.

Browsings for the deer.