Love is whatever you can still betray. Betrayal can only happen if you love.

Love is whatever you can still betray. Betrayal can only happen if you love.

'Tis said of love that it sometimes goes, sometimes flies; runs with one, walks gravely with another; turns a third read more

'Tis said of love that it sometimes goes, sometimes flies; runs with one, walks gravely with another; turns a third into ice, and sets a fourth in a flame: it wounds one, another it kills: like lightning it begins and ends in the same moment: it makes that fort yield at night which it besieged but in the morning; for there is no force able to resist it.

The essence of romantic love is not the company of a lover but the pursuit.

The essence of romantic love is not the company of a lover but the pursuit.

As he read, I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once.

As he read, I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once.

This was love at first sight, love everlasting: a feeling unknown, unhoped for, unexpected- in so far as it could read more

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.

The best love story is when you fall in love with the most unexpected person at the most unexpected time.

The best love story is when you fall in love with the most unexpected person at the most unexpected time.

You know how they say you only hurt the ones you love? Well, it works both ways.

You know how they say you only hurt the ones you love? Well, it works both ways.

When you make a world tolerable for yourself, you make a world tolerable for others.

When you make a world tolerable for yourself, you make a world tolerable for others.

Today I begin to understand what love must be, if it exists.... When we are parted, we each feel the read more

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.