One sweet, sad secret holds my heart in thrall;
A mighty love within my breast has grown,
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One sweet, sad secret holds my heart in thrall;
A mighty love within my breast has grown,
Unseen, unspoken, and of no one known;
And of my sweet, who gave it, least of all.
[Fr., Ma vie a son secret, mon ame a son mystere:
Un amour eternel en un moment concu.
La mal est sans remede, aussi j'ai du le taire,
Et elle qui l'a fait n'en a jamais rien su.]

Love, the itch, and a cough cannot be hid.

Love, the itch, and a cough cannot be hid.

Falling in love is like jumping off a really tall building. Your brain tells you it is not a good read more

Falling in love is like jumping off a really tall building. Your brain tells you it is not a good idea, but your heart tells you, you can fly.

Love is a driver, bitter and fierce if you fight and resist him, Easy-going enough once you acknowledge his power.

Love is a driver, bitter and fierce if you fight and resist him, Easy-going enough once you acknowledge his power.

When you have loved as she has loved, you grow old beautifully.

When you have loved as she has loved, you grow old beautifully.

I was about half in love with her by the time we sat down. That's the thing about girls. Every read more

I was about half in love with her by the time we sat down. That's the thing about girls. Every time they do something pretty... you fall half in love with them, and then you never know where the hell you are.

I love you not because of who you are, but because of who I am when I am with you.

I love you not because of who you are, but because of who I am when I am with you.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height read more

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace. I love thee to the level of everyday's Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints, -I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life! - and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.

Speak to me of love,
said St Francis to
the almond tree,
and the tree blossomed.

Speak to me of love,
said St Francis to
the almond tree,
and the tree blossomed.