Pleasure is the flower that passes; remembrance, the lasting perfume. Stanislas de Boufflers More Quotes by Stanislas de Boufflers More Quotes From Stanislas de Boufflers To reason about love is to lose reason. Stanislas de Boufflers loses reason love-is The higher we rise, the more isolated we become; all elevations are cold. Stanislas de Boufflers cold higher solitude
