... what a fatal thing in pictures, books, or human lives, is a lack of proportion.

absence ... smothers into decay a rootless fancy but often nourishes the least seed of a true affection into full-flowering love.

... what a fatal thing in pictures, books, or human lives, is a lack of proportion.

With faces like dead lovers who died true.

Our natural and happiest life is when we lose ourselves in the exquisite absorption of home, the delicious retirement of dependent love.

according to the old joke, married people are often like little boys bathing, who cry with chattering teeth to the boys on the shore, 'Do come in, it's so warm' - it is not always warm.

... it does not do to tell great people anything unpleasant.