Wit Is Often A Mask. If You

Poverty Hides Itself In Thought Before It Surrenders To Purses.

I Would Tell You More Of Him, But How Shall I? When Love Becomes Vast Love Becomes Wordless. And When Memory Is Overladen It Seeks The Silent Deep.

Love Gives Naught But Itself And Takes Naught But From Itself.

I Would Not Exchange The Sorrows Of My Heart For The Joys Of The Multitude. And I Would Not Have The Tears That Sadness Makes To Flow From My Every Part Turn Into Laughter. I Would That My Life Remain A Tear And A Smile.

Tolerance Is Love Sick With The Sickness Of Haughtiness.