A lover without indiscretion is no lover at all.
The offhand decision of some commonplace mind high in office at a critical moment influences the course of events for a hundred years.
Done because we are too many.
To dwellers in a wood, almost every species of tree has its voice as well as its feature.
When yellow lights struggle with blue shades in hairlike lines.
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.