Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs, Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes, Being vexed, read more

Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs, Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes, Being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers' tears. What is it else? A madness most discreet, A choking gall and a preserving sweet.

When one is in love, one always begins by deceiving one's self, and one always ends by deceiving others. That read more

When one is in love, one always begins by deceiving one's self, and one always ends by deceiving others. That is what the world calls a romance.

You don't love someone because they're perfect, you love them in spite of the fact that they're not.

You don't love someone because they're perfect, you love them in spite of the fact that they're not.

If I am unaware of love, I live drably. If I become intoxicated with love, I live in dreamland. If read more

If I am unaware of love, I live drably. If I become intoxicated with love, I live in dreamland. If I recognize love, and shake his hand then comfort, dreams, and sometimes intoxication become mine to drench in and give away as well.

It is impossible to repent of love. The sin of love does not exist.

It is impossible to repent of love. The sin of love does not exist.

Love is much like a wild rose, beautiful and calm, but willing to draw blood in its defense.

Love is much like a wild rose, beautiful and calm, but willing to draw blood in its defense.

Like everybody who is not in love, he thought one chose the person to be loved after endless deliberations and read more

Like everybody who is not in love, he thought one chose the person to be loved after endless deliberations and on the basis of particular qualities or advantages.

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.

You should hurry up and acquire the cigar habit. It's one of the major happinesses. And so much more lasting read more

You should hurry up and acquire the cigar habit. It's one of the major happinesses. And so much more lasting than love, so much less costly in emotional wear and tear.