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O human beauty, what a dream art thou, that we should cast our life and hopes away on thee!

The beauty that addresses itself to the eyes is only the spell of the moment; the eye of the body is not always that of the soul.

Smiles, tears, of all my life! - and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.

Mysterious love, uncertain treasure, hast thou more of pain or pleasure! Endless torments dwell about thee: Yet who would live, and live without thee!

For as well as I have loved thee heretofore, mine heart will not serve now to see thee; for through thee and me is the flower of kings and knights destroyed.

Speech is the mirror of the soul.

I need no dictionary of quotations to remind me that the eyes are the windows of the soul.

Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears.

The more determinedly I exist, as myself, within the conditions of the time, the more clearly I shall hear the language of the past, the nearer I shall feel the glow of its life.

I think of myself as the eyes and ears and voice of the reader.