Falling out of love is chiefly a matter of forgetting how charming someone is.
People from a planet without flowers would think we must be mad with joy the whole time to have such things about us.
Being good is just a matter of temperament in the end.
A middling talent makes for a more serene life.
The bereaved cannot communicate with the unbereaved.
Love is the perception of individuals. Love is the extremely difficult realisation that something other than oneself is real.