To a person in love, the value of the individual is intuitively known. Love needs no logic for its mission.

To a person in love, the value of the individual is intuitively known. Love needs no logic for its mission.

He loved the twilight that surrounds
The border-land of old romance;
Where glitter hauberk, helm, and lance,
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He loved the twilight that surrounds
The border-land of old romance;
Where glitter hauberk, helm, and lance,
And banner waves, and trumpet sounds,
And ladies ride with hawk on wrist,
And mighty warriors sweep along,
Magnified by the purple mist,
The dusk of centuries and of song.

Love is somthing that can not be explained - the force that drives us to protect the ones we care read more

Love is somthing that can not be explained - the force that drives us to protect the ones we care about.

You were made perfectly to be loved - and surely I have loved you, in the idea of you, my read more

You were made perfectly to be loved - and surely I have loved you, in the idea of you, my whole life long.

You say that love is nonsense....I tell you it is no such thing. For weeks and months it is a read more

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.

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 world calls a romance.

Soul meets soul on lovers lips.

Soul meets soul on lovers lips.

If thou must love me, let it be for nought Except for love's sake only. Do not say, I love read more

If thou must love me, let it be for nought Except for love's sake only. Do not say, I love her for her smile . . . her look . . . her way Of speaking gently . . . for a trick of thought That falls in well with mine, and, certes, brought A sense of pleasant ease on such a day- For these things in themselves, Beloved, may be changed, or change for thee- and love so wrought, May be unwrought so.

Love is most nearly itself when here and now cease to matter.

Love is most nearly itself when here and now cease to matter.