A Mother's Arms Are Made Of Tenderness

The Beautiful Is As Useful As The Useful." He Added After A Moment’s Silence, "perhaps More So.

Melancholy Is The Pleasure Of Being Sad.

She Loved With So Much Passion As She Loved With Ignorance. She Did Not Know Whether It Were Good Or Evil, Beneficent Or Dangerous, Necessary Or Accidental, Eternal Or Transitory, Permitted Or Prohibited: She Loved.

A Compliment Is Something Like A Kiss Through A Veil.

To Love Is The Half Of To Believe.