Unhappy love freezes all our affections: our own souls grow inexplicable to us. More than we gained while we were happy we lose by the reverse.
The mind's pleasures are made to calm the tempests of the heart.
Love is admiring with the heart. And admiring is loving with the mind.
The mind may be exhausted, but the language of the heart is inexhaustible.
Love, supreme power of the heart, mysterious enthusiasm that encloses in itself all poetry, all heroism, all religion!
Beauty is one in the universe, and, whatever form it assumes, it always arouses a religious feeling in the hearts of mankind.
In matters of the heart, nothing is true except the improbable.