Love Makes A Few Weeks So Rich

Passion Doesn't Look Beyond The Moment Of Its Existence.

Panic Is A Sudden Desertion Of Us, And A Going Over To The Enemy Of Our Imagination.

Constant Companionship Is Not Enjoyable, Any More Than Constant Eating. We Sit Too Long At The Table Of Friendship, When We Outsit Our Appetites For Each Other's Thoughts.

Few Minds Wear Out; More Rust Out.

Wit Must Be Without Effort. Wit Is Play, Not Work; A Nimbleness Of The Fancy, Not A Laborious Effort Of The Will; A License, A Holiday, A Carnival Of Thought And Feeling, Not A Trifling With Speech, A Constraint Upon Language, A Duress Upon Words.