“Absences are a good influence in love and keep it bright and delicate.”

I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move.

It is one thing to mortify curiosity, another to conquer it.

An elegant and pregnant texture: that is style, that is the foundation of the art of literature.

It is better to lose health like a spendthrift than to waste it like a miser.

To travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive.

You think dogs will not be in heaven? I tell you, they will be there long before any of us.

I’ve a grand memory for forgetting.

By being happy we sow anonymous benefits upon the world.

Sooner or later everyone sits down to a banquet of consequences.

There is no duty we so much underrate as the duty of being happy.

Fiction is to the grown man what play is to the child; it is there that he changes the atmosphere and tenor of his life.

It’s a pleasant thing to be young, and have ten toes.

You can give without loving, but you can never love without giving.

Everybody, soon or late, sits down to a banquet of consequences.

It is not likely that posterity will fall in love with us, but not impossible that it may respect or sympathize; so a man would rather leave behind him the portrait of his spirit than a portrait of his face.

If a man loves the labour of his trade, apart from any question of success or fame, the gods have called him.

The sharp thorn often produces delicate roses.

A tiny bit of obscure delicacy written all over her face at all times.

Rain is the warm softness of a mother’s hand as she soothingly dabs that nasty smelling ointment on that bruised kneecap of yours, her delicate features creased with worry.

You flowed into me so delicately, like a beautiful twist of fate. I inspired you as you moved me in an alluring turn of phrase.

The infinite ceiling of my dainty delicate dreams makes me see the wise world where my heart belongs.

The dark silhouette of a forgotten rose in a forbidden garden of love; what kind of delicate fragrance of forgiveness it seems to tell my heart about.

The flavor of wine is like delicate poetry.

Her love was like lavender, Delicate and melancholy.