What is Love? It is that powerful attraction towards all that we conceive, or fear, or hope beyond ourselves.

Jealousy's eyes are green.

All of us who are worth anything, spend our manhood in unlearning the follies, or expiating the mistakes of our youth.

There is a harmony in autumn, and a luster in its sky, which through the summer is not heard or seen, as if it could not be, as if it had not been!

Man's yesterday may never be like his morrow; Nought may endure but Mutability.

Change is certain. Peace is followed by disturbances; departure of evil men by their return. Such recurrences should not constitute occasions for sadness but realities for awareness, so that one may be happy in the interim.

The cloud shadows of midnight possess their own repose.