A forty-year-old woman is only something to men who have loved her in her youth.
There are as many styles of beauty as there are visions of happiness.
This is the curse of our age, even the strangest aberrations are no cure for boredom.
Love is like a fever which comes and goes quite independently of the will. ... there are no age limits for love.
A woman of generous character will sacrifice her life a thousand times over for her lover, but will break with him for ever over a question of pride.
People happy in love have an air of intensity.