These violent delights have violent ends
And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,
Which as they kiss consume: the sweetest honey
Is loathsome in his own deliciousness
And in the taste confounds the appetite:
Therefore love moderately; long love doth so;
Love is the wisest of madness, able to suppress bitterness, sweetness able to heal.
With love you can't go to market. It's its joy, like the joy of intellect, is feeling alive. The reason for love is loving: no more, no less.
A sentimentalist is one who desires to have the luxury of an emotion without paying for it.
Within my gaze still she lingered, and in the uncertain rays of the sun I imagined seeing her still.
Love, that moves the sun and the other stars.
I love you who listen to me and my good paper which is left at the end of my game.
I say to you today that I still stand by nonviolence. And I am still convinced that it is the most potent weapon available to the Negro in his struggle for justice in this country. And the other thing is that I am concerned about a better world. I'm concerned about justice. I'm concerned about brotherhood. I'm concerned about truth. And when one is concerned about these, he can never advocate violence. For through violence you may murder a murderer but you can't murder murder. Through violence you may murder a liar but you can't establish truth. Through violence you may murder a hater, but you can't murder hate. Darkness cannot put out darkness. Only light can do that.
It was the passions about whose origin we deceived ourselves that tyrannized most strongly over us. Our weakest motives were those of whose nature we were conscious.
Pleasures are like photographs: in the presence of the person we love, we take only negatives, which we develop later, at home, when we have at our disposal once more our inner dark room, the door of which it is strictly forbidden to open while others are present.