Spring appears and we are once more children.
It is not enough for a landscape to be interesting in itself. Eventually there must be a moral and historic interest.
Prudery is a kind of avarice, the worst of all.
Love is like fever; it comes and goes without the will having any part of the process.
I used to think of deathlike I suppose soldiers think of it: it was a possible thing that I could well avoid by my skill.
In love, unlike most other passions, the recollection of what you have had and lost is always better than what you can hope for in the future.