
Aww, those times . . . en los que podiamos hacer lo que queriamos! Y una batalla de pistolas de balines . . . . en las calles de Paris!
Solo uno mas en este mundo...
And life is too much like a pathless wood
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping
From a twig's having lashed across it open.