…There is the heat of Love, the pulsing rush of Longing, the lover’s whisper, irresistible—magic to make the sanest man go mad.
Words empty as the wind are best left unsaid.
The charity that is a trifle to us can be precious to others.
Light is the task where many share the toil.
A sympathetic friend can be quite as dear as a brother.
Nothing shall I, while sane, compare with a friend.
