Whether you call my heart affectionate, or you call it womanish: I confess, that to my misfortune, it is soft.
Love is a kind of warfare.
The cause is hidden; the effect is visible to all.
Use the occasion, for it passes swiftly.
All love is vanquished by a succeeding love.
What is it that love does to a woman? Without she only sleeps; with it alone, she lives.