I am dragged along by a strange new force. Desire and reason are pulling in different directions. I see the right way and approve it, but follow the wrong.

Pedigree and ancestry and what we ourselves have not achieved, I scarcely recognize as our own.

Love's dominion, like a kings, admits of no partition.

When the lightning strikes but one, not one only does it terrify.

Seeking is all very well, but holding requires greater talent: Seeking involves some luck; now the demand is for skill.

Gutta cavat lapidem, non vi sed saepe cadendo. (The drop excavates the stone, not with force but by falling often.)

That tuneful nymph, the babbling Echo.