anybody's applause is better than nobody's.

Nothing but love can answer to love; no affection, no kindness, no care, can supply its place: it is its own sweet want.

Strange the affection which clings to inanimate objects - objects which cannot even know our love! But it is not return that constitutes the strength of an attachment.

... true love is like religion, it hath its silence and its sanctity.

the fact is, that life is too short to be occupied by aught but the present - hope and remembrance are equally a waste of time.

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!

We might have been - these are but common words, and yet they make the sum of life's bewailing.