We are ourselves our happiness.

Are we not like the actor of old times, who wore his mask so long his face took its likeness?

We need to suffer, that we may learn to pity.

We are ourselves our happiness.

Toil is the portion of day, as sleep is that of night; but if there be one hour of the twenty-four which has the life of day without its labor, and the rest of night without its slumber, it is the lovely and languid hour of twilight.

I will look on the stars and look on thee, and read the page of thy destiny.

And this is woman's fate: all her affections are called into life by winning flatteries, and then thrown back upon themselves to perish; and her heart, her trusting heart, filled with weak tenderness, is left to bleed or break!