A man in love is incomplete until he is married. Then hes finished.
Love, I find, is like singing. Everyone can do enough to satisfy themselves, though it may not impress the neighbors as being very much.
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 me laugh.
Neither a lofty degree of intelligence nor imagination nor both together go to the making of genius. Love, love, love, that is the soul of genius.
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.
As soon go kindle fire with snow, as seek to quench the fire of love with words.
Love, unrequited, robs me of my rest Love, hopeless love, my ardent soul encumbers Love, nightmare-like, lies heavy on my chest, And weaves itself into my midnight slumbers
‘True love’ isn’t so much a dreamy feeling that you have as it is an enduring commitment to give sacrificially –even, or perhaps especially, when you don’t feel like it.
Flatter me, and I may not believe you. Criticize me, and I may not like you. Ignore me, and I may not forgive you. Encourage me, and I may not forget you.