There must be something strangely sacred in salt. It is in our tears and in the sea.

It is not a garment I cast off this day, but a skin that I tear with my own hands.

He who wears his morality but as his best garment were better naked. The wind and the sun will tear no holes in his skin.

Love provided me with a tongue and tears.

Wit is often a mask. If you tear it you will find either genius irritated or cleverness juggling.