A simile committing suicide is always a depressing spectacle.
For he who lives more lives than one more deaths than one must die.
sorrow...is a wound that bleeds when any hand but that of love touches it
There is no mode of action, no form of emotion, that we do not share with the lower animals. It is only by language that we rise above them.
The sky was pure opal now.
The one charm of the past is that it is the past.