Joys Are Our Wings, Sorrows Our Spurs.

Poverty Is The Only Load Which Is The Heavier The More Loved Ones There Are To Assist In Bearing It.

Love Lessens Woman's Delicacy And Increases Man's.

How Narrow Our Souls Become When Absorbed In Any Present Good Or Ill! It Is Only The Thought Of The Future That Makes Them Great.

No Heroine Can Create A Hero Through Love Of One, But She Can Give Birth To One

Because The Heart Beats Under A Covering Of Hair, Of Fur, Feathers, Or Wings, It Is, For That Reason, To Be Of No Account?