Affection Exaggerates Its Own Offenses.

Jealousy Ought To Be Tragic, To Save It From Being Ridiculous.

I Never Cast A Flower Away, A Gift Of One Who Car'd For Me; A Flower--a Faded Flower, But It Was Done Reluctantly.

How Often, In This Cold And Bitter World, Is The Warm Heart Thrown Back Upon Itself! Cold, Careless, Are We Of Another's Grief; We Wrap Ourselves In Sullen Selfishness.

Marriage Is Like Money - Seem To Want It, And You Never Get It.

... True Love Is Like Religion, It Hath Its Silence And Its Sanctity.