Possession without obligation to the object possessed approaches felicity.
My religion of life is always to be cheerful.
She whom I love is hard to catch and conquer, Hard, but O the glory of the winning were she won!
Not till the fire is dying in the grate, Look we for any kinship with the stars.
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.