Love is a canvas furnished by Nature and embroidered by imagination.
All pleasantry should be short; and it might even be as well were the serious short also.
What can I hope when all is right?
He is lifeless that is faultless.
Our wretched species is so made that those who walk on the well-trodden path always throw stones at those who are showing a new road.
It is the flash which appears, the thunderbolt will follow.