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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.
To love one's self is the beginning of a life-long romance
To love one's self is the beginning of a life-long romance
Love is like a friendship caught on fire. In the beginning a flame, very pretty, often hot and fierce, but read more
Love is like a friendship caught on fire. In the beginning a flame, very pretty, often hot and fierce, but still only light and flickering. As love grows older, our hearts mature and our love becomes as coals, deep-burning and unquenchable.
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.
So, fall asleep love, loved by me....for I know love, I am loved by thee.
So, fall asleep love, loved by me....for I know love, I am loved by thee.
He loved the twilight that surrounds
The border-land of old romance;
Where glitter hauberk, helm, and lance,
read more
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.
Pleasure of love lasts but a moment, Pain of love lasts a lifetime. •Jean Pierre Claris De Florian read more
Pleasure of love lasts but a moment, Pain of love lasts a lifetime. •Jean Pierre Claris De Florian Love won't be tampered with, love won't go away. Push it to one side and it creeps to the other.
Romances paint at full length people's wooings,
But only give a bust of marriages:
For no one read more
Romances paint at full length people's wooings,
But only give a bust of marriages:
For no one cares for matrimonial cooings.
There's nothing wrong in a connubial kiss.
Think you, if Laura had been Petrarch's wife,
He would have written sonnets all his life?
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.