Dreams have only the pigmentation of fact.

What is a ruin but time easing itself of endurance?

One cup poured into another makes different waters; tears shed by one eye would blind if wept into another's eye. The breast we strike in joy is not the breast we strike in pain; any man's smile would be consternation on another's mouth.

The truth is how you say it, and to be 'one's self' is the most shocking custom of all.

A man's sorrow runs uphill; true it is difficult for him to bear, but it is also difficult for him to keep.

I talk too much because I have been made so miserable by what you are keeping hushed.

I've seen death and I didn't like it.