It wasn't the first time in their lives that they had seen trees, blue sky and lawn, or heard the flowing of water or the rustle of the breeze in the branches, but never before, certainly, had they looked on it all with such wonder: it was as though nature had not existed before, or had only begun to be beautiful with the slaking of their desires.

His rage had sent him into Latin: he would have spouted Chinese or Greenlandic had he been able to, for he was in the throes of one of those crises in which th…

She was the amoureuse of all the novels, the heroine of all the plays, the vague 'she' of all the poetry books.

'What's improper about it?' retorted the clerk. 'Everybody does it in Paris!' It was an irresistible and conclusive argument.

Love is like a pineapple, sweet and undefinable.

No voice; but oh! the silence sank Like music on my heart.

Nature, like man, sometimes weeps from gladness.