Love is fed by the imagination, by which we become wiser than we know, better than we feel, nobler than we are: by which we can see life as a whole, by which and by which alone we can understand others in their real and their ideal relation.
Send
Love is fed by the imagination, by which we become wiser than we know, better than we feel, nobler than we are: by which we can see life as a whole, by which and by which alone we can understand others in their real and their ideal relation.
Christianity has done a great deal for love by making it a sin.
Oh! I quite love dull and practical conversations. What I can't stand are dull and practical people. There is a great difference.
Romance should never begin with sentiment. It should begin with science and end with a settlement.
Is there maybe a limit to how much one can love another person? I doesn't matter how much I may hurt him or he may hurt me.
I discover hope, and far from me hate, that those wounds given to him by me may leave him marks like burns. So that he may never forget me. But I will never let me leave me. All this means desiring someone deeply and wildly. I don't think I am able to love anyone else this much.
He never speak about love, but there is a way to express silence as more eloquent than word and to communicate mysteriously and overwhelmingly the idea of the love. The lightning bolt of the eyes, the tone of the voice, the thousand tendernesses that emanate from every word, from every look, every gesture...Here is the true oratory of the heart, that it can be felt and always comprised, but never described.
If you enter this world knowing you are loved and you leave this world knowing the same, then everything that happens in between can be dealt with.
I will stop loving only you when a deaf painter will succeed in painting the noise of a petal of rose fall on a floor of crystal of a castle ever existed.
Curse your eyes!
They have bewitched and divided me.
One half of me is yours, the other half is yours -
mine, I should have said - but if mine, then yours,
and so I'm all yours!
And other strains of woe, which now seem woe, Compared with loss of thee, will not seem so.