Beauty without the beloved is a like a sword through the heart.

You have been mine before - How long ago I may not know: But just when at that swallow's soar, your neck turned so, Some veil did fall, - I knew it all of yore.

Love, which is quickly kindled in the gentle heart, seized this man for the fair form that was taken from me, the manner still hurts me. Love which absolves no beloved one from loving, seized me so strongly with his charm that, as thou seest, it does not leave me yet

Was it a friend or foe that spread these lies; Nay, who but infants question in such wise, twas one of my most intimate enemies.

Love is the last relay and ultimate outposts of eternity.

The worst moment for the atheist is when he is really thankful and has nobody to thank.

It is beautiful, the world, and life itself. I am glad I have lived.