A kiss is but a kiss now! and no wave of a great flood that whirls me to the sea. But, as you will! we'll sit contentedly, and eat our pot of honey on the grave.

Caricature is rough truth.

Earth knows no desolation. She smells regeneration in the moist breath of decay.

See ye not, Courtesy is the true Alchemy, turning to gold all it touches and tries?

Jealousy is love bed of burning snarl.

Perfect simplicity is unconsciously audacious.

She whom I love is hard to catch and conquer, Hard, but O the glory of the winning were she won!