Quotes on Love

You love me so much, you want to put me in your pocket. And I should die there smothered.

Death forerunneth Love to win "Sweetest eyes were ever seen."

If I had as many love affairs as I've been given credit for, I'd be in a jar at the Harvard Medical School.

There is an Eye that never sleeps, Beneath the wind of night. There is an ear that never shuts, When sinks the beams of light. There is an Arm that never tires, When human strength gives way. There is a Love that never fails, When earthly loves decay.

May I reach That purest heaven - be to other souls The cup of strength in some great agony; Enkindle generous ardor, feed pure love, Beget the smiles that have no cruelty. Be the sweet presence of a good diffused, And in the diffusion ever more intense! So shall I join the choir invisible Whose music is the gladness of the world.

The most extraordinary thing about the oyster is this. Irritations set into his shell. He does not like them. But when he cannot get ride of them, he uses the irritation to do the loveliest thing an oyster ever has a chance to do. If there are irritations in our lives today, there is only one prescription: make a pearl. It may have to be a pearl of patience, but anyhow, make a pearl. And it takes faith and I love to do it.

Enemies publish themselves. They declare war. The friend never declares his love.

Love does not analyze its object.

I came to love my rows, my beans, though so many more than I wanted. They attached me to the earth, and so I got strength like Antaeus.

When you doubt between words, use the plainest, the commonest, the most idiomatic. Eschew fine words as you would rouge; love simple ones as you would the native roses on your cheek.

It is hard to see how a great man can be an atheist. . . . We need to feel that behind us is intelligence and love.

Dull sublunary lovers' love (Whose soul is sense) cannot admit Absence, because it doth remove Those things which elemented it.

Whilst my physicians by their love are grown Cosmographers, and I their map, who lie Flat on this bed.

I wonder by my troth, what thou, and I Did, till we loved? were we not weaned till then? But sucked on country pleasures, childishly? Or snorted we in the seven sleepers' den?

I long to talk with some old lover's ghost, Who died before the god of love was born.

But he who loveliness within Hath found, all outward loathes, For he who color loves, and skin, Loves but their oldest clothes.

Sweetest love, I do not go, For weariness of thee, Nor in hope the world can show A fitter love for me; But since that I Must die at last, 'tis best, To use my self in jest Thus by feign'd deaths to die.

Old as I am, for ladies' love unfit, The power of beauty I remember yet.

Yet beauty, though injurious, hath strange power, After offence returning, to regain Love once possess'd.

God is good and God is light In this faith I rest secure, Evil can but serve the right, Over all shall love endure.

Such a morning it is when love leans through geranium windows and calls with a cockerel's tongue. When red-haired girls scamper like roses over the rain-green grass, and the sun drips honey.