Love disdains pity.
A wounded love carries a scar to the grave.
* * *
In love, when honor is lost, loss of shame soon follows. Then indeed the downward patch becomes precipitous.
* * *
To some, love never comes; to some, it comes too often; but the same love never recurs, as never a bud opens twice: happy he or she is who gains bud, blossom, and fruit. Since
The sweetest love is that wherein the odorous flower of passion ripens into the nourishing fruitage of affection. But
Love requires careful nature. And
The more exotic the love, the more difficult its culture.—True, An orchid may life on air. Yes; but how torrid and vaporous an air!
Your sturdy mistletoe thrives on the humble apple; a Cattleya requires a
Columbian forest.