A man may be a miser of his wealth; he may tie up his talent in a
napkin; he may hug himself in his reputation; but he is always generous
in his love. Love cannot stay at home; a man cannot keep it to himself.
Like light, it is constantly traveling. A man must spend it, must give
it away.--_Macleod._
Repining love is the stillest; the shady flowers in this spring as in
the other, shun sunlight.--_Richter._