Beautiful Is Greater Than Good, For It

The History Of Mankind Is His Character.

What I Possess, Seems Far Away To Me, And What Is Gone Becomes Reality.

What Sort Of Faults May We Retain, Nay, Even Cherish In Ourselves? Those Faults Which Are Rather Pleasant Than Offensive To Others.

No One Feels Himself Easy In A Garden Which Does Not Look Like The Open Country.

An Angel! Nonsense! Everybody So Describes His Mistress; And Yet I Find It Impossible To Tell You How Perfect She Is, Or Why She Is So Perfect: Suffice It To Say She Has Captivated All My Senses.