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Truth is brighter than Light Falsehood darker than night Revenge is keener than Axe and Love is softer than melting wax
while it's true in tennis, love is zero. but zero is also where everything starts. nothing would ever be born if we didn't depart from there. nothing would be ever achieved.
Once, when I was young and true. Someone left me sad - Broke my brittle heart in two; And that is very bad. Love is for unlucky folk, Love is but a curse. Once there was a heart I broke; And that, I think, is worse.
These things end,” she said. “They always end. Nobody marries their first love. First love is just that. First. It’s implied that something else will follow.
Those who love, friends and lovers, know that love is not only a blinding flash, but also a long and painful struggle in the darkness for the realization of definitive recognition and reconciliation.
The measure of love is to love without measure. - attributed to Saint Augustine
Flowers are nice, but love is better.
Soft you day, be velvet soft, My true love approaches, Look you bright, you dusty sun, Array your golden coaches. Soft you wind, be soft as silk My true love is speaking. Hold you birds, your silver throats, His golden voice I'm seeking. Come you death, in haste, do come My shroud of black be weaving, Quiet my heart, be deathly quiet, My true love is leaving.
But love is an emotional thing, and whatever is emotional is opposed to that true cold reason which I place above all things.
My lover asks me: “What is the difference between me and the sky?” The difference, my love, Is that when you laugh, I forget about the sky
One who has loved truly, can never lose entirely. Love is whimsical and temperamental. Its nature is ephemeral, and transitory. It comes when it pleases,and goes away without warning. Accept and enjoy it while it remains, but spend no time worrying about its departure. Worry will never bring it back.
Isn't it grand, isn't it good, that language has only one word for everything we associate with love - from utter sanctity to the most fleshly lust? The result is perfect clarity in ambiguity, for love cannot be disembodied even in its most sanctified forms, nor is it without sanctity even at its most fleshly. Love is always simply itself, both as a subtle affirmation of life and as the highest passion; love is our sympathy with organic life.
To be honest, I think love is complete bullshit. I don't think anyone ever loves anyone. I think the best people ever get is horny; horny and scared, so when they find someone who makes them horny, and they get too scared of the world outside, they stay together and they call it love.
I love, because my love is not dependent on the object of love. My love is dependent on my state of being. So whether the other person changes, becomes different, friend turns into a foe, does not matter, because my love was never dependent on the other person. My love is my state of being. I simply love.
My love is something valuable to me which I ought not to throw away without reflection.
Look with your heart and not with your eyes. The heart understands. The heart never lies. Believe what it feels, and trust what it shows. Look with your heart; the heart always knows. Love is not always beautiful, not at the start. But open your arms, and close your eyes tight. Look with your heart and when it finds love, your heart will be right.
Love is not a relationship, love is a state of being; it has nothing to do with anybody else. One is not "in love", one is love. And of course when one is love, one is in love – but that is an outcome, a by-product, that is not the source. The source is that one is love.
Giving that is not motivated by love is worth nothing.
This is what it means to be in the middle of love, I thought. Being in the middle of love is like being in the middle of a war zone.
Hate is all that keeps us alive when love is gone. You’re almost there. Not quite ready to let it go yet.
Maybe hope isn't the most dangerous thing a person can have. Maybe love is.
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