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Talk not of wasted affection; affection never was wasted.
Talk not of wasted affection; affection never was wasted.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,rnAnd therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,rnAnd therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
The pain of love is the pain of being alive. It is a perpetual wound.
The pain of love is the pain of being alive. It is a perpetual wound.
Love is the greatest refreshment in life.
Love is the greatest refreshment in life.
Who so loves believes the impossible.
Who so loves believes the impossible.
Love is not singular except in syllable.
Love is not singular except in syllable.
Footfalls echo in the memory, Down the passage which we did not take, Towards the door we never opened Into read more
Footfalls echo in the memory, Down the passage which we did not take, Towards the door we never opened Into the rose-garden.
