During the great storms of our lives we imitate those captains who jettison their weightiest cargo.
We love because we love.
Vulgar souls look hastily and superficially at the sea and accuse it of monotony; other more privileged beings could spend a lifetime admiring it and discovering new and changing phenomena that delight them. So it is with love.
If we could but paint with the hand what we see with the eye.
Sensuality is the death of the soul.
The national budget is not a safe-deposit box. It is a spray can.