He is dead in this world who has no belief in another.

Rash, inexperienced youth holds itself a chosen instrument, and allows itself unbounded license.

You don't love if you don't take the beloved's faults for virtues.

Do not, I beg you, look for anything behind phenomena. They are themselves their own lesson.

Our passions are the true phoenixes; when the old one is burnt out, a new one rises from its ashes.

The experiences show us just as we are; they make us see our own defects.

True love is love that stays constant for ever, whatever it's fortune; whether requited or scored, filled or sent empty away.