Comfort is tedious when it lasts too long. - Elizabeth Drew Stoddard

Never does the soul feel so far from human life as when a man finds himself alone in the vistas of the moon, either in the streets of a sleeping city, the avenues of the woods, or by the border of the sea. Earth, swayed perhaps by her powerful satellite, withdraws her sympathy from him and he wanders in a white void, wondering if he was born to be thus annulled.

The country is crazy with barrenness, and the sea mocks it with its terrible beauty.

A woman despises a man for loving her, unless she happens to return his love.