Proud and insolent youth, prepare to meet thy doom. - J. M. Barrie

Let no one who loves be called altogether unhappy. Even love unreturned has its rainbow, and Babbie knew that Gavin loved her. Yet she stood in woe among the stiff berry bushes, as one who stretches forth her hands to Love and sees him looking for her, and knows she must shrink from the arms she would lie in, and only call to him in a voice he cannot hear. This is not a love that is always bitter. It grows sweet with age.

Dark and sinister man, have at thee.

Split my infinitives, but 'tis my hour of triumph!