Cats Ask Plainly For What They Want.

The Very Beautiful Rarely Love At All; Those Precious Images Are Placed Above The Reach Of The Passions: Time Alone Is Permitted To Efface Them.

When A Woman Hath Ceased To Be Quite The Same To Us, It Matters Little How Different She Becomes.

We Care Not How Many See Us In Choler, When We Rave And Bluster, And Make As Much Noise And Bustle As We Can; But If The Kindest And Most Generous Affection Comes Across Us, We Suppress Every Sign Of It, And Hide Ourselves In Nooks And Covert.

We Are No Longer Happy So Soon As We Wish To Be Happier.

I See The Rainbow In The Sky, The Dew Upon The Grass; I See Them, And I Ask Not Why They Glimmer Or They Pass. With Folded Arms I Linger Not To Call Them Back; 'twere Vain: In This, Or In Some Other Spot, I Know They'll Shine Again.