Mere Elegance Of Language Can Produce At

To Be Able To Say How Much Love, Is Love But Little.

Man Has Not A Greater Enemy Than Himself.

In My Younger Days I Struggled Constantly With An Overwhelming But Pure Love Affair - My Only One, And I Would Have Struggled With It Longer Had Not Premature Death, Bitter But Salutary For Me, Extinguished The Cooling Flames. I Certainly Wish I Could Say That I Have Always Been Entirely Free From Desires Of The Flesh, But I Would Be Lying If I Did.

Go, Grieving Rimes Of Mine, To That Hard Stone Whereunder Lies My Darling, Lies My Dear, And Cry To Her To Speak From Heaven's Sphere.

He Loves But Lightly Who His Love Can Tell.