The dower of great beauty has always been misfortune, since happiness and beauty do not agree together.

Green is the prime color of the world, and that from which its loveliness arises.

What is life? A madness. What is life? An illusion, a shadow, a story. And the greatest good is little enough: for all life is a dream, and dreams themselves are only dreams.

All must yield to the weight of years; conquest is not difficult for time.

When love is not madness, it is not love.

Dreams are rough copies of the waking soul Yet uncorrected of the higher will, So that men sometimes in their dreams confess An unsuspected, or forgotten, self; -Since Dreaming, Madness, Passion, are akin In missing each that salutory rein Of reason, and the grinding will of man.

One may know how to gain a victory, and know not how to use it.