Injustice Is A Sixth Sense, And Rouses

One Should Not Run On A New Road.

There Is No Corner Too Quiet, Or Too Far Away, For A Woman To Make Sorrow In It.

Once Suspicion Is Aroused, Every Thing Feeds It.

... Trouble Of All Kinds Is Voluble, And Has Plenty Of Words, But Happiness Was Never Written Down.

The Fate Of Love Is That It Always Seems Too Little Or Too Much.