Vice is a creature of such hideous mien. . . that the more you see it the better you like it
Genius, like truth, has a shabby and neglected mien.
A queen, devoid of beauty is not queen; She needs the royalty of beauty's mien.
Vice is a monster of so frightful mien As to be hated needs but to be seen; Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, We first endure, then pity, then embrace.
When I fall in love, I feel more valuable and I treat myself with more care. We have all observed the hesitant adolescent, uncertain of himself, who, when he or she falls in love, suddenly walks with a certain inner assuredness and confidence, a mien which seems to say, "You are looking at somebody now. ". . . this inner sense of worth that comes with being in love does not seem to depend essentially on whether the love is returned or not.