The state we find ourselves in is sinful quite independent of guilt.

I can't feel a thing; All mournful petal storms are dancing inside the very private spring of my head.

I’m doing badly, I’m doing well; whichever you prefer.

I answer one of your letters, then lie in bed in apparent calm, but my heart beats through my entire body and is conscious only of you. I belong to you; there is really no other way of expressing it, and that is not strong enough.

It is strange how little sharpsightedness women possess; they only notice whether they please, then whether they arouse pity, and finally, whether you look for compassion from them. That is all; come to think of it, it may even be enough, generally speaking.

If you find someone who makes you smile, who checks up on you often to see if you're okay. Who watches out or you and wants the best for you. Who loves and respects you. Don't let them go. People like that are hard to find.

Youth is happy because it has the ability to see beauty. Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old.