You are always new to me.
I never was in love - yet the voice and the shape of a woman has haunted me these two days.
I have loved the principle of beauty in all things.
I am convinced more and more day by day that fine writing is next to fine doing, the top thing in the world.
Pleasure is oft a visitant; but pain Clings cruelly to us.
Where are the songs of Spring? Aye, where are they? Think not of them; thou has thy music too.