Our affections are our life. We live by them; they supply our warmth.
A slight touch of friendly malice and amusement towards those we love keeps our affections for them from turning flat.
Our affections, however laudable, in this transitory world, should never master us; we should guide them, guide them.
Self-interest is the enemy of all true affection.
“Affection,” said Miss Lavinia, glancing at her sister for corroboration, which she gave in the form of a little nod to every clause, “mature affection, homage, devotion, does not easily express itself. Its voice is low. It is modest and retiring, it lies in ambush, waits and waits. Such is the mature fruit. Sometimes a […]
We may not return the affection of those who like us, but we always respect their good judgment.