There is no instinct like that of the heart.
Friendship may, and often does, grow into love, but love never subsides into friendship.
Think you, if Laura had been Petrarch's wife, He would have written sonnets all his life?.
The very best of vineyards is the cellar
What an antithetical mind! - tenderness, roughness - delicacy, coarseness - sentiment, sensuality - soaring and groveling, dirt and deity - all mixed up in that one compound of inspired clay!
For truth is always strange; stranger than fiction.