Love, love, I have hung our cave with roses.

It is awful to want to go away and to want to go nowhere.

There must be quite a few things that a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them.

But life is long. And it is the long run that balances the short flare of interest and passion.

Well, I know now. I know a little more how much a simple thing like a snowfall can mean to a person

I can't be satisfied with the colossal job of merely living.

Every day is precious and I feel infinitely sad at this time melting away from me.