Age isn't how old you are but how old you feel.

He is ugly and sad, but he is all love.

Her heart of compressed ash, which had resisted the most telling blows of daily reality without strain, fell apart with the first waves of nostalgia.

When I stand and contemplate my fate and see the path along which you have led me, I reach my end, for artless I surrendered to one who is my undoing and my end.

She likes to try everything, out of curiosity, but she'll be sorry if she isn't guided by her heart.

The world was reduced to the surface of her skin and her inner self was safe from all bitterness.

They were so close to each other that they preferred death to separation.