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.
Love is a second life; it grows into the soul, warms every vein, and beats in every pulse.
Love of country is like love of woman - he loves her best who seeks to bestow on her the highest good.
I could never love where I could not respect.
Poets are the only people to whom love is not only a crucial, I've always felt that a person's intelligence is directly reflected by the number of conflicting points of view he can entertain simultaneously on the same topic.
Love is, above all, the gift of oneself.
Things are beautiful if you love them.
Among those whom I like or admire, I can find no common denominator, but among those whom I love, I can: all of them make laugh.
When you love someone all your saved-up wishes start coming out.
Sympathy constitutes friendship; but in love there is a sort of antipathy, or opposing passion. Each strives to be the other, and both together make up one whole.
Friendship often ends in love; but love in friendship - never.
Love lives on hope, and dies when hope is dead; It is a flame which sinks for lack of fuel.
Pleasure of love lasts but a moment, pain of love lasts a lifetime.
Unable are the Loved to die for Love is Immortality.
Love, with very young people, is a heartless business. We drink at that age from thirst, or to get drunk; it is only later in life that we occupy ourselves with the individuality of our wine.
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.
Love is union with somebody, or something, outside oneself, under the condition of retaining the separateness and integrity of one's own self.
There is hardly any activity, any enterprise, which is started out with such tremendous hopes and expectations, and yet which fails so regularly, as love.
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.
They are always saying God loves us. If that's love I'd rather have a bit of kindness.
Tell me whom you love and I will tell you who you are.
The love we give away is the only love we keep.
When peoples care for you and cry for you, they can straighten out your soul.
No matter what you've done for yourself or for humanity, if you can't look back on having given love and attention to your own family, what have you really accomplished?
Let those that love us, love us. And those that don't, may God turn their hearts. And, if He cannot turn their hearts, may He turn their ankles so we may know them by their limping!
We don't love qualities, we love persons; sometimes by reason of their defects as well as of their qualities.
Happiness is the china shop; love is the bull.
There are two times in every man's life when he is thoroughly happy; just after he has met his first love and just after he has parted from his last one.
To a person in love, the value of the individual is intuitively known. Love needs no logic for its mission.
This was love at first sight, love everlasting: a feeling unknown, unhoped for, unexpected - in so far as it could be a matter of conscious awareness; it took entire possession of him, and he understood, with joyous amazement, that this was for life.
We are not the same persons this year as last; nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person.
Romantic love is an illusion. Most of us discover this truth at the end of a love affair or else when the sweet emotions of love lead us into marriage and then turn down their flames.
A man reserves his true and deepest love not for the species of woman in whose company he finds himself electrified and enkindled, but for that one in whose company he may feel tenderly drowsy.
There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.
True love is like ghosts, which everybody talks about and few have seen.
Family love is messy, clinging, and of an annoying and repetitive pattern, like bad wallpaper.
Love is a driver, bitter and fierce if you fight and resist him, easy - going enough once you acknowledge his power.
We conceal it from ourselves in vain - we must always love something. In those matters seemingly removed from love, the feeling is secretly to be found, and man cannot possibly live for a moment without it.
Love, free as air at sight of human ties, spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies.
A woman who pretends to laugh at love is like a child who sings at night when he is afraid.
To love someone who does not love you, is like shaking a tree to make the dew drops fall.
Love makes the time pass. Time makes love pass.
Love this Earth as if you won't be here tomorrow; show reverence for your Garden as if you will be here forever.
Love is like dew that falls on both nettles and lilies.
Love is something far more than desire for sexual intercourse; it is the principal means of escape from the loneliness which afflicts most men and women throughout the greater part of their lives.
Life has taught us that love does not consist in gazing at each other but in looking outward together in the same direction.
Love is a spirit of all compact of fire.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
Love sought is good, but given unsought, is better.
The course of true love never did run smooth.
They do not love that do not show their love.
We cease loving ourselves if no one loves us.
'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.
There is no remedy for love but to love more.
If so many men, so many minds, certainly so many hearts, so many kinds of love.
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.
Love is what we were born with. Fear is what we learned here.
