Embrace him not, my dear, but feign to be angry: let us just see a fun how he is nettled over it.

Bouderie is the salt of love: to lengthen it unduly, however, is like adding too much of salt to food.

It is like wounding one anew who is already wounded, it thou come away without embracing her whom thou hast left in a pet.

To come away without conciliating her who is frowning in a pet is like cutting off the roots from under the starving plant.

The bouderie of the beloved hath an attraction even for men who are spotlessly pure.

If there were no frowns or pets on the part of the beloved, love would miss its fruits and its half-growns.

There is a pain that belongeth unto bouderie: for one asketh oneself whether reconciliation is near or yet a far way off.

Of what avail is my grieving when there is no loving one nigh to see how much I suffer?

Water is pleasant only in shady groves: and pettishness hath a charm only in one who loveth ardently.

If my heart still yearneth for her who sootheth me not, it is due to nothing but a foolish longing.