There are so many tender and holy emotions flying about in our inward world, which, like angels, can never assume the body of an outward act; so many rich and lovely flowers spring up which bear no seed, that it is a happiness poetry was invented, which receives into its limbs all these incorporeal spirits, and the perfume of all these flowers.

Love lessens woman's delicacy and increases man's.

Every man has a rainy corner of his life whence comes foul weather which follows him.

A sky full of silent suns.

Romanticism is beauty without bounds-the beautiful infinite.

A man never discloses his own character so clearly as when he describes anothers.

Man has here two and a half minutes-one to smile, one to sigh, and a half to love: for in the midst of this minute he dies.