Love is as much of an object as an obsession, everybody wants it, everybody seeks it, but few ever achieve it, those who do will cherish it, be lost in it, and among all, never... never forget it.
If we are to judge of love by its consequences, it more nearly resembles hatred than friendship.
There is no disguise that can for long conceal love where it exists or simulate it where it does not.
Human Love... It is that extra creation that stands hurt and baffled at the place of death. Being human, wanting children and sunlight and breath to go on, forever.
What's terrible is to pretend that the second-rate is first-rate, that you don't need love when you do or that you like your work when you know quite well you're capable of better.
An act of love that fails is just as much a part of the divine life as an act of love that succeeds, for love is measured by fullness, not by reception.
Great passions, my dear, don't exist: they're liars fantasies. What do exist are little loves that may last for a short or a longer while.
Nowadays men cannot love seven night but they must have all their desires: that love may not endure by reason; for where they be soon accorded and hasty, heat soon it cooleth. Right so fareth love nowadays, soon hot soon cold: this is no stability. But the old love was not so.
There is no living with thee, nor without thee.
Love is the delusion that one man or woman differs from another.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
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