You May Also Like / View all maxioms
There is no end. There is no beginning. There is only the infinite passion of life.
There is no end. There is no beginning. There is only the infinite passion of life.
Once in awhile, right in the middle of an ordinary life, love gives us a fairy tale.
Once in awhile, right in the middle of an ordinary life, love gives us a fairy tale.
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.
All I really, really want our love to do is to bring out the best in me and in you read more
All I really, really want our love to do is to bring out the best in me and in you too.
To a person in love, the value of the individual is intuitively known. Love needs no logic for its mission.
To a person in love, the value of the individual is intuitively known. Love needs no logic for its mission.
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.
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.
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.
Absence from whom we love is worse than death, and frustrates hope severer than despair.
Absence from whom we love is worse than death, and frustrates hope severer than despair.