fretting at trouble only doubles it.

The beauty that addresses itself to the eyes is only the spell of the moment; the eye of the body is not always that of the soul.

One wastes so much time, one is so prodigal of life, at twenty! Our days of winter count for double. That is the compensation of the old.

Not to love is to cease to live.

These tears do me good, they have watered the parched place; perhaps my heart will grow again there!

He who draws noble delights from sentiments of poetry is a true poet, though he has never written a line in all his life.

No human being can control love, and no one is to blame either for feeling it or for losing it. What alone degrades a woman is falsehood.