Art is indeed not the bread but the wine of life.
How narrow our souls become when absorbed in any present good or ill! It is only the thought of the future that makes them great.
Repetition is the mother of education.
A loving maiden grows unconsciously more bold.
Woman and men of retiring timidity are cowardly only in dangers which affect themselves, but the first to rescue when others are in danger.
Because the heart beats under a covering of hair, of fur, feathers, or wings, it is, for that reason, to be of no account?