He loved the twilight that surrounds The border-land of old romance; Where glitter hauberk, helm, and lance, And banner waves, and trumpet sounds, And ladies ride with hawk on wrist, And mighty warriors sweep along, Magnified by the purple mist, The dusk of centuries and of song.
As for me, to love you alone, to make you happy, to do nothing which would contradict your wishes, this is my destiny and the meaning of my life.
Men always want to be a woman's first love. Women have a more subtle instinct: What they like is to be a man's last romance.
I only wish to be the fountain of love from which you drink, every drop promising eternal passion.
Love is most nearly itself when here and now cease to matter.
How bold one gets when one is sure of being loved!
Soul meets soul on lovers lips.
Why love if losing hurts so much⦠I have no answers anymore⦠only the life I have lived⦠The pain now is part of the happiness (then).
You were made perfectly to be loved - and surely I have loved you, in the idea of you, my whole life long.
To love is to place our happiness in the happiness of another.
I never knew how to worship until I knew how to love.
There is a land of the living and a land of the dead and the bridge is love, the only survival, the only meaning.
You say that love is nonsense....I tell you it is no such thing. For weeks and months it is a steady physical pain, an ache about the heart, never leaving one, by night or by day; a long strain on one's nerves like toothache or rheumatism, not intolerable at any one instant, but exhausting by its steady drain on the strength.
If thou must love me, let it be for nought Except for love's sake only. Do not say, I love her for her smile . . . her look . . . her way Of speaking gently . . . for a trick of thought That falls in well with mine, and, certes, brought A sense of pleasant ease on such a day- For these things in themselves, Beloved, may be changed, or change for thee- and love so wrought, May be unwrought so.
Pleasure of love lasts but a moment, Pain of love lasts a lifetime. â¢Jean Pierre Claris De Florian Love won't be tampered with, love won't go away. Push it to one side and it creeps to the other.
Love must not touch the marrow of the soul. Our affections must be breakable chains that we can cast them off or tighten them.
Today I begin to understand what love must be, if it exists.... When we are parted, we each feel the lack of the other half of ourselves. We are incomplete like a book in two volumes of which the first has been lost. That is what I imagine love to be: incompleteness in absence.
The love we give away is the only love we keep.
Do you want me to tell you something really subversive? Love is everything it's cracked up to be. That's why people are so cynical about it. . . . It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. And the trouble is, if you don't risk anything, you risk even more.
True love is like ghosts, which everybody talks about and few have seen.
To a person in love, the value of the individual is intuitively known. Love needs no logic for its mission.
Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs, Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes, Being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers' tears. What is it else? A madness most discreet, A choking gall and a preserving sweet.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
Love has features which pierce all hearts, he wears a bandage which conceals the faults of those beloved. He has wings, he comes quickly and flies away the same.
Fantasy love is much better than reality love. Never doing it is very exciting. The most exciting attractions are between two opposites that never meet.