The repose of darkness is deeper on the water than on the land.
When two mouths, made sacred by love, draw near to each other to create, it is impossible, that above that ineffable kiss there should not be a thrill in the immense mystery of the stars.
Dirt has been shrewdly termed "misplaced material.
Oh! Everything I loved!
What a grand thing, to be loved! What a grander thing still, to love!
What is history? An echo of the past in the future; a reflex from the future on the past.