You are always new, the last of your kisses was ever the sweetest.

We read fine things but never feel them to the full until we have gone the same steps as the author.

How sad it is when a luxurious imagination is obliged in self defense to deaden its delicacy in vulgarity, and riot in things attainable that it may not have leisure to go mad after things that are not.

Of love, that fairest joys give most unrest.

O aching time! O moments big as years!

The roaring of the wind is my wife and the stars through the window pane are my children. The mighty abstract idea I have of beauty in all things stifles the more divided and minute domestic happiness.

Love is my religion - I could die for it.