Echoes

A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment.

There is no disguise which can hide love for long where it exists, or simulate it where it does not.

True love is like ghosts, which everyone talks about but few have seen.

If a man should importune me to give a reason why I loved him, I find it could no otherwise be expressed, than by making answer: because it was he, because it was I.

Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself. Love possesses not nor would it be possessed; For love is sufficient unto love.

Not to display anger or other emotions. To be free of passion and yet full of love.

The course of true love never did run smooth.

Love is not consolation, it is light.

Furthermore, form and substance are like dew on a blade of grass, and fleeting life is as a flash of lightning, instantly emptied and immediately lost.

One dies twice: to cease to live is nothing, but to cease to love and to be loved is an insupportable death.

He who is in love is wise and is becoming wiser, sees newly every time he looks at the object beloved, drawing from it with his eyes and his mind those virtues which it possesses.

My Soul gave me good counsel, teaching me to love what the people abhor and to show good will toward the one they hate. It showed me that Love is a property not of the lover but of the beloved. Before my Soul taught me, Love was for me a delicate thread stretched between two adjacent pegs, but now it has been transformed into a halo; its first is its last, and its last is its first. It encompasses every being, slowly expanding to embrace all that ever will be.

Feelings come and go like clouds in a windy sky. Conscious breathing is my anchor.

Absence diminishes mediocre passions and increases great ones, as the wind extinguishes candles and fans fires.

We live in a world that is lit by lightning. So much is changing and will change, but so much endures and transcends time.

The only certainty is that nothing is certain.

There is not love of life without despair about life.

There is no hope unmingled with fear, and no fear unmingled with hope.

But let there be spaces in your togetherness, and let the winds of the heavens dance between you. Love one another but make not a bond of love.

Nothing in life is so exhilarating as to be shot at without result.

We are such stuff As dreams are made on; and our little life Is rounded with a sleep.

All is ephemeral — fame and the famous as well.

Nothing is permanent in all the world. All things are fluid; every image forms, wandering through change. Time itself flows on in constant motion, just like a river, for neither the river nor the swift hour can stop its course; but as wave impels wave, and as each wave comes, the one before is both impelled by the next and impels the one ahead, so time both flees and follows and is always new.

No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it is not the same river and he is not the same man.

This world of dew / is only a world of dew — / and yet... and yet...