I sorrow that all fair things must decay.
I cannot spare the luxury of believing that all things beautiful are what they seem.
None knew thee but to love thee.
What is man's love? His vows are broke even while his parting kiss is warm.
It is a rich storehouse for those who love quotations. It is as full of fine bon mots as a Christmas pudding is full of plums.
The wild-flower wreath of feeling, the sunbeam of the heart.