A man may love a woman perfectly, and yet by no means ignorantly maintain a thousand women have not larger eyes. Enough that she alone has looked at him with eyes that, large or small, have won his soul.

And each man stands with his face in the light. Of his own drawn sword, ready to do what a hero can.

Love me sweet With all thou art Feeling, thinking, seeing; Love me in the Lightest part, Love me in full Being.

Happy are all free peoples, too strong to be dispossessed. But blessed are those among nations who dare to be strong for the rest!

When we first met and loved, I did not build Upon the event with marble. . . .

The English have a scornful insular way Of calling the French light.

A woman's pity sometimes makes her mad.