Where there is great love, there are always miracles.

I only knew the schoolbooks said he "died in the wilderness, of a broken heart.""More than him has done that," said Antonia sadly, and the girls murmured assent.

Oh, that's the beauty of the rose, that it blossoms and dies.

The heart of another is a dark forest, always, no matter how close it has been to one's own.

Life began for me, when I ceased to admire and began to remember.

Old men are like that, you know. It makes them feel important to think they're in love with somebody.