We Love Without Heeding Reason,

[h]appy Or Miserable, Life Is The Only Blessing Which Man Possesses[.

Love Is A Great Poet, Its Resources Are Inexhaustible, But If The End It Has In View Is Not Obtained, It Feels Weary And Remains Silent.

I Have Always Had Such Sincere Love For Truth, That I Have Often Begun By Telling Stories For The Purpose Of Getting Truth To Enter The Heads Of Those Who Could Not Appreciate Its Charms.

They Are The Follies Inherent To Youth; I Make Sport Of Them, And, If You Are Kind, You Will Not Yourself Refuse Them A Good-natured Smile.

The Story She Had Told Me Was Possible, But It Was Not Believable.