Now you know how much my love for you burns deep in me when I forget about our emptiness, and deal with shadows as with solid things.

The human race is in the best condition when it has the greatest degree of liberty.

Love kindled by virtue always kindles another, provided that its flame appear outwardly.

A rapid bolt will rend the clouds apart, and every single White be seared by wounds. I tell you this. I want it all to hurt.

Fame is not won on downy plumes nor under canopies; the man who consumes his days without obtaining it leaves such mark of himself on earth as smoke in air or foam on water.

There is no greater pain than to remember, in our present grief, past happiness.

Love, that exempts no one beloved from loving, seized me with pleasure of this man so strongly, that, as thou seest, it doth not yet desert me.