Experience teaches, it is true; but she never teaches in time.
Curiosity is its own suicide.
Few save the poor feel for the poor.
A woman's fame is the tomb of her happiness.
We would liken music to Aladdin's lamp — worthless in itself, not so for the spirits which obey its call. We love it for the buried hopes, the garnered memories, the tender feelings, it can summon with a touch.
Nothing but love can answer to love; no affection, no kindness, no care, can supply its place: it is its own sweet want.