Quotes
Quotes about Love
Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day First heard before the shallow cuckoo's bill, Portend success in love.
Yon nightingale, whose strain so sweetly flows, Mourning her ravish'd young or much-loved mate, A soothing charm o'er all the valleys throws And skies, with notes well tuned to her and state.
Madam, you have bereft me of all words. Only my blood speaks to you in my veins, And there is such confusion in my powers As, after some oration fairly spoke By a beloved prince, there doth appear Among the buzzing pleased multitude, Where every something being blent together Turns to a wild of nothing, save of joy Expressed and not expressed.
Wicked men obey from fear; good men, from love.
She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love.
And I have loved them, Ocean! and my joy Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be Borne, like shy bubbles, onward; from a boy I wanton'd with thy breakers. . . . . And laid my hand upon thy mane--as I do here.
No clouds are in the morning sky, The vapors hug the stream, Who says that life and love can die In all this northern gleam? At every turn the maples burn, The quail is whistling free, The partridge whirs, and the frosted burs Are dropping for you and me. Ho! hillyho! heigh O! Hillyho! In the clear October morning.
All men do not, in fine, admire or love the same thing.
Those who never retract their opinions love themselves more than they love truth.
Opportunity may knock only once, but temptation leans on the doorbell. â¢Anonymous Many an opportunity is lost because a man is out looking for four-leaf clovers.
Many an opportunity is lost because a man is out looking for four-leaf clovers.
All colors are the friends of their neighbors and the lovers of their opposites.
I love opposition that has convictions.
Very good orators, when they are out, they will spit; and for lovers, lacking--God warn us!--matter, the cleanliest shift is to kiss.
If you did wed my sister for her wealth, Then for her wealth's sake use her with more kindness: Or if you like elsewhere, do it by stealth; Muffle your false love with some show of blindness: Let not my sister read it in your eye; Be not thy tongue thy own shame's orator; Look sweet, spear fair, become disloyalty; Apparel vice like virtue's harbinger; Bear a fair presence, though your heart be tainted; Teach sin the carriage of a holy saint; Be secret-false: what need she be acquainted?
I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts. I am no orator, as Brutus is, But (as you know me all) a plain blunt man That love my friend; and that they know full well That gave me public leave to speak of him.
I will not be sworn but love may transform me to an oyster; but I'll take my oath on it, till he have made an oyster of me he shall never make me such a fool.
An oyster may be crossed in love! Who says A whale's a bird?--Ha! did you call my love?-- He's here! He's there! he's everywhere! An me! he's nowhere!
World's use is cold, world's love is vain, World's cruelty is bitter bane; But pain is not the fruit of pain.
Sweet is true love that is given in vain, and sweet is death that takes away pain.
If it is the love of that which your work represents--if, being a landscape painter, it is love of hills and trees that moves you--if, being a figure painter, it is love of human beauty, and human soul that moves you--if, being a flower or animal painter, it is love, and wonder, and delight in petal and in limb that move you, then the Spirit is upon you, and the earth is yours, and the fullness thereof.
Pansies? You praise the ones that grow today Here in the garden; had you seen the place When Sutherland was living! Here they grew, From blue to deeper blue, in midst of each A golden dazzle like a glimmering star, Each broader, bigger than a silver crown; While here the weaver sat, his labor done, Watching his azure pets and rearing them, Until they seem'd to know his step and touch, And stir beneath his smile like living things: The very sunshine loved them, and would lie Here happy, coming early, lingering late, Because they were so fair.
I pray, what flowers are these? The pansy this, O, that's for lover's thoughts.
Heart's ease! one could look for half a day Upon this flower, and shape in fancy out Full twenty different tales of love and sorrow, That gave this gentle name.
Pray you, love, remember. And there is pansies, that's for thoughts.
