Quotes
Quotes about Love
Loveliness
Needs not the foreign aid of ornament,
But is when unadorn'd, adorn'd the most.
Forever, Fortune, wilt thou prove
An unrelenting foe to love;
And when we meet a mutual heart,
Come in between and bid us part?
Dost thou love life? Then do not squander time, for that is the stuff life is made of.
Philips, whose touch harmonious could remove
The pangs of guilty power and hapless love!
Rest here, distress'd by poverty no more;
Here find that calm thou gav'st so oft before;
Sleep undisturb'd within this peaceful shrine,
Till angels wake thee with a note like thine!
I remember a passage in Goldsmith's "Vicar of Wakefield," which he was afterwards fool enough to expunge: "I do not love a man who is zealous for nothing."... There was another fine passage too which he struck out: "When I was a young man, being anxious to distinguish myself, I was perpetually starting new propositions. But I soon gave this over; for I found that generally what was new was false."
The lover in the husband may be lost.
None without hope e'er lov'd the brightest fair,
But love can hope where reason would despair.
Ah, happy hills! ah, pleasing shade!
Ah, fields beloved in vain!
Where once my careless childhood stray'd,
A stranger yet to pain!
I feel the gales that from ye blow
A momentary bliss bestow.
O'er her warm cheek and rising bosom move
The bloom of young Desire and purple light of Love.
When love could teach a monarch to be wise,
And gospel-light first dawn'd from Bullen's eyes.
Thy fatal shafts unerring move,
I bow before thine altar, Love!
In the first days
Of my distracting grief, I found myself
As women wish to be who love their lords.
Sweet Auburn! loveliest village of the plain.
The hawthorn bush, with seats beneath the shade,
For talking age and whispering lovers made.
The bashful virgin's sidelong looks of love.
Well had the boding tremblers learn'd to trace
The day's disasters in his morning face;
Full well they laugh'd with counterfeited glee
At all his jokes, for many a joke had he;
Full well the busy whisper circling round
Convey'd the dismal tidings when he frown'd.
Yet was he kind, or if severe in aught,
The love he bore to learning was in fault;
The village all declar'd how much he knew,
'T was certain he could write and cipher too.
All his faults are such that one loves him still the better for them.
I love everything that's old: old friends, old times, old manners, old books, old wine.
When lovely woman stoops to folly,
And finds too late that men betray,
What charm can soothe her melancholy?
What art can wash her guilt away?
The only art her guilt to cover,
To hide her shame from every eye,
To give repentance to her lover,
And wring his bosom, is--to die.
Have you not heard these many years ago
Jeptha was judge of Israel?
He had one only daughter and no mo,
The which he loved passing well;
And as by lott,
God wot,
It so came to pass,
As God's will was.
And how should I know your true love
From many another one?
Oh, by his cockle hat and staff,
And by his sandal shoone.
As if the world and they were hand and glove.
England, with all thy faults I love thee still,
My country!
Who loves a garden loves a greenhouse too.
