Romance is the poetry of literature.

Romance is the poetry of literature.

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

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

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.

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.

She had been forced into prudence in her youth, she learned
romance as she grew older - the natural read more

She had been forced into prudence in her youth, she learned
romance as she grew older - the natural sequence of an unnatural
beginning.

To love is like playing the piano. First, you must learn to play by the rules. Then, you must forget read more

To love is like playing the piano. First, you must learn to play by the rules. Then, you must forget the rules and play from your heart.

Lady of the Mere,
Sole-sitting by the shores of old romance.

Lady of the Mere,
Sole-sitting by the shores of old romance.

When [he] kisses you he isn't doing anything else. You're his whole universe..and the moment is eternal because he doesn't read more

When [he] kisses you he isn't doing anything else. You're his whole universe..and the moment is eternal because he doesn't have any plans and isn't going anywhere. Just kissing you...it's overwhelming.

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.