The heart hid still in the dark, hard as the Philosopher's Stone.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
So in the dark we hide the heart that bleeds, And wait, and tend our agonizing seeds.
The human heart has hidden treasures, In secret kept, in silence sealed; The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures, Whose charms were broken if revealed.
Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eye.
There are so many ways in which the heart of man conceals itself from man!
His heart was like a sensitive plant, that opens for a moment in the sunshine, but curls up and shrinks into itself at the slightest touch of the finger, or the lightest breath of wind.
The workings of the human heart are the profoundest mystery of the universe. One moment they make us despair of our kind, and the next we see in them the reflection of the divine image.
The heart of man will always be dark. There will always be evil people. The problem is that there is nothing we can humanly do to change them.
The poets' scrolls will outlive the monuments of stone. Genius survives; all else is claimed by death.
Easy mind, light heart. A mind that is too easy hides a heart that is too heavy.
The proud, the cold untroubled heart of stone, that never mused on sorrow but its own.