Oh, if it be to choose and call thee mine, love, thou art every day my Valentine!
What is mind? No matter. What is matter? Never mind. What is the soul? It is immaterial.
I remember, I remember The fir-trees dark and high; I used to think their slender tops Were close against the sky; It was a childish ignorance, But now 't is little joy To know I'm farther off from heaven Than when I was a boy.
Coquetry is the champagne of love.
A certain portion of the human race has certainly a taste for being diddled.
When was ever honey made with one bee in a hive?