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.
God's rarest blessing is, after all, a good woman!
Friendship, I fancy, means one heart between two.
Earth knows no desolation. She smells regeneration in the moist breath of decay.
I expect Woman will be the last thing civilized by Man.
The season of love is the carnival of egoism and it brings a touchstone to our natures.