Secrecy is for the happy,--misery, hopeless misery, needs no veil; under a thousand suns it dares act openly.
He, that noble prize possessing He that boasts a friend that's true, He whom woman's love is blessing, Let him join the chorus too!
No emperor has the power to dictate to the heart.
Great souls suffer in silence.
O jealousy! thou magnifier of trifles.
Man, living, feeling man, is the easy sport of the over-mastering present.