That younger spinster is not to be envied who has to make choice of
several.

Youth glories in the multiplicity of its lovers; age sometimes wishes it
had had but one.

* * *

The unloved think lad the one thing needful. The beloved know that an
ocean of love could be swallowed up and the parched soul cry out athirst.


* * *

It is not well either to confide or confess too much.

A very small rock will wreck a very big ship, and a very small slip will
spoil a very long life.

* * *

The pain which lovers cause each other--through fickleness, languidness,
jealousy, and the thousand natural shocks that love is heir to--is not
altogether pain, though at the moment it may seem the most poignant
anguish the human soul could suffer. One proof of this lies in the fact
that

There are few who would choose to have missed love's pangs altogether.