The mind scolds the heart, which makes excuses and goes its own way.
When I try to portray to myself my heart's desire, nothing happens.
Sentimentality is the respect the cold-hearted pay to feeling.
A sense of blessedness comes from a change of heart, not from more blessings.
I dream of vague shapes that hint of my heart's desire.
Cruel impulses stir all about my kindly heart.
To win hearts, smile kindly on people's weaknesses.
Fearful of sentimentality, I disown my tears and melting heart.
Love Songs Now: Fewer broken hearts, more sexual misery.