Laughter Is Always Fatal To Feeling.

But The Lover's Power Is The Poet's Power. He Can Make Love From All The Common Strings With Which This World Is Strung.

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

It Is Only In Sorrow Bad Weather Masters Us; In Joy We Face The Storm And Defy It.

... If Fiction Does Not Show Us A Better Life Than Reality, What Is The Good Of It?

A Man Nearly Sixty Is Just As Ready To Suppose Himself Fascinating As A Man Of Twenty.