"You always say TRIFLES, my dear Athos!" said d'Artagnan, "and that come very ill from you, who have never loved."
The drink-deadened eye of Athos flashed out, but only for a moment; it became as dull and vacant as before.
"That's true," said he, quietly, "for my part I have never loved."
"Acknowledge, then, you stony heart," said d'Artagnan, "that you are wrong to be so hard upon us tender hearts."
"Tender hearts! Pierced hearts!" said Athos.
"What do you say?"
"I say that love is a lottery in which he who wins, wins death! You are very fortunate to have lost, believe me, my dear d'Artagnan. And if I have any counsel to give, it is, always lose!"