Still on it creeps Each little moment at another's heels Till hours days years and ages are made up Of such small parts as these and men look back Worn and bewilder'd wondering how it is.

Good-morrow to thy sable beak, And glossy plumage, dark and sleek, Thy crimson moon and azure eye

A willing heart adds feather to the heel.

If my heart were not light, I would die.

Pampered vanity is a better thing perhaps than starved pride.

I have seen the day, when, if a man made himself ridiculous, the world would laugh at him. But now, everything that is mean, disgusting, and absurd, pleases them but so much the better!

The bliss even of a moment still is bliss.

My day is closed! the gloom of night is come! a hopeless darkness settles over my fate.

But woman's grief is like a summer storm, Short as it violent is.

A woman is seldom roused to great and courageous exertion but when something most dear to her is in immediate danger.

I wish I were with some of the wild people that run in the woods, and know nothing about accomplishments!

We have fangirl shorthand.

Rise above the deceptions and temptations of the mind. This is your duty. You are born for this only

No matter how pale and pure and perfect you are, the moon is even more perfect.

We live in an age of mediocrity.

I can't stand VPL, visible panty line. So I'm wondering how many other people out there are wearing thongs.

Without hope we live in desire.

Lonely people console themselves with self-absorption or curiosity.

I don't want expensive gifts; I don't want to be bought. I have everything I want. I just want someone to be there for me, to make me feel safe and secure.

You know when you find a great dress, you've gotta hold on to it.

When you're a catalyst for change, you make enemies - and I'm proud of the ones I've got.