When yellow lights struggle with blue shades in hairlike lines.

I am the family face; flesh perishes, I live on.

That one true heart was left behind! What feeling do we ever find, to equal among human kind , a dog's fidelity!

Once let a maiden admit the possibility of her being stricken with love for some one at a certain hour and place, and the thing is as good as done.

...she moved about in a mental cloud of many-coloured idealities, which eclipsed all sinister contingencies by its brightness.

Love is a possible strength in an actual weakness.

You have never loved me as I love you--never--never! Yours is not a passionate heart--your heart does not burn in a flame! You are, upon the whole, a sort of fay, or sprite-- not a woman!