The Soul's Maladies Have Their Relapses Like

A Man's Worth Has Its Season, Like Fruit.

We Do Not Despise All Those Who Have Vices, But We Do Despise Those That Have No Virtue.

The Pleasure Of Love Is In The Loving; And There Is More Joy In The Passion One Feels Than In That Which One Inspires.

The Truest Comparison We Can Make Of Love Is To Liken It To A Fever; We Have No More Power Over The One Than The Other, Either As To Its Violence Or Duration.

Hope And Fear Are Inseparable. There Is No Hope Without Fear, Nor Any Fear Without Hope.