Write for pleasure and publish for money.

I loved you; even now I may confess, Some embers of my love their fire retain; But do not let it cause you more distress, I do not want to sadden you again. Hopeless and tongue tied, yet I loved you dearly With pangs the jealous and the timid know; So tenderly I loved you, so sincerely, I pray God grant another love you so.

I want to understand you, I study your obscure language.

With womankind, the less we love them, the easier they become to charm.

Moral maxims are surprisingly useful on occasions when we can invent little else to justify our actions.

Unrequited love is not an affront to man but raises him.

I loved you: and, it may be, from my soul The former love has never gone away, But let it not recall to you my dole; I wish not sadden you in any way. I loved you silently, without hope, fully, In diffidence, in jealousy, in pain; I loved you so tenderly and truly, As let you else be loved by any man.