Love is like death, it must come to us all, but to each his own unique way and time, sometimes it will be avoided, but never can it be cheated, and never will it be forgotten.

He who is too well off is always longing for something new.

In the olden days, when wishing still worked, there lived a king whose daughters were all beautiful, but the youngest daughter was so lovely that even the sun... was struck with wonder.

Evil is also not anything small or close to home, and not the worst; otherwise one could grow accustomed to it.

Chemistry is a gibberish of Latin and German; but in Leibig's hands it becomes a powerful language.

Skin white as snow, lips red as blood, and hair black as ebony.

How often when we are comfortable, we begin to long for something new!