Ah, on what little things does happiness depend! I have read all that the wise men have written, and all the secrets of philosophy are mine, yet for want of a red rose is my life made wretched.
Oscar WildeThe vilest deeds like poison weeds Bloom well in prison air; It is only what is good in man That wastes and withers there.
Oscar WildeNow it seems to me that love of some kind is the only possible explanation of the extraordinary amount of suffering that there is in the world.
Oscar Wilde