Love is only known by him who hopelessly persists in love.
Secrecy is for the happy,--misery, hopeless misery, needs no veil; under a thousand suns it dares act openly.
Stubbornness is not firmness.
Art is difficult, transient is her reward.
Freedom exists only with power.
Revenge is barren of itself: it is the dreadful food it feeds on; its delight is murder, and its end is despair.