Nay, What Is Worse, Perhaps Turn Poet,

It Is Courage That Vanquishes In War, And Not Good Weapons.

It Is Not The Responsibility Of Knights Errant To Discover Whether The Afflicted, The Enchained And The Oppressed Whom They Encounter On The Road Are Reduced To These Circumstances And Suffer This Distress For Their Vices, Or For Their Virtues: The Knight's Sole Responsibility Is To Succour Them As People In Need, Having Eyes Only For Their Sufferings, Not For Their Misdeeds.

Reading Don Quixote Can Be Compared To An Indefinite Visit From Your Most Impossible Senior Relative, With All His Pranks, Dirty Habits, Unstoppable Reminiscences, And Terrible Cronies. When The Experience Is Over, And The Old Boy Checks Out At Last (on Page 846 - The Prose Wedged Tight, With No Breaks For Dialogue), You Will Shed Tears All Right; Not Tears Of Relief Or Regret But Tears Of Pride. You Made It, Despite All That 'don Quixote' Could Do.

Let Us Forget And Forgive Injuries.

Our Hours In Love Have Wings; In Absence, Crutches.