When we are understood, we always speak well, and then all your fine diction serves no purpose.
How strange it is to see with how much passion People see things only in their own fashion!
The absence of the beloved, short though it may last, always lasts too long.
Then worms shall try That long preserved virginity, And your quaint honor turn to dust, And into ashes all my lust. The grave's a fine and private place But none, I think, do there embrace.
Of all human foibles love of living is the most powerful.
The world, dear Agnes, is a strange affair.