He thought of the mouldering child, which laid its withered thin arms around his soul, as if it were his own, and to whom Death had given as much as a god gave to Endymion, — sleep, eternal youth, and immortality.

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

A variety of nothing is superior to a monotony of something.

Never part without loving words to think of during your absence. It may be that you will not meet again in this life.

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

Because the heart beats under a covering of hair, of fur, feathers, or wings, it is, for that reason, to be of no account?

It is not great, but little good-haps that make up happiness.