I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.
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Somewhere there waiteth in this world of ours
For one lone soul another lonely soul,
Each choosing read more
Somewhere there waiteth in this world of ours
For one lone soul another lonely soul,
Each choosing each through all the weary hours,
And meeting strangely at one sudden goal,
Then blend they, like green leaves with golden flowers,
Into one beautiful and perfect whole;
And life's long night is ended, and the way
Lies open onward to eternal day.
They do not love that do not show their love.
They do not love that do not show their love.
It hurts to love someone and not be loved in return, but what is the most painful is to love read more
It hurts to love someone and not be loved in return, but what is the most painful is to love someone and never find the courage to let the person know how you feel.
The pain of love is the pain of being alive. It is a perpetual wound.
The pain of love is the pain of being alive. It is a perpetual wound.
Doubt that the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never read more
Doubt that the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love.
You don't love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or for their fancy car, but because they sing a read more
You don't love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or for their fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear.
No matter what you've done for yourself or for humanity, if you can't look back on having given love and read more
No matter what you've done for yourself or for humanity, if you can't look back on having given love and attention to your own family, what have you really accomplished?
Love is a springtime plant that perfumes everything with its hope, even the ruins to which it clings.
Love is a springtime plant that perfumes everything with its hope, even the ruins to which it clings.
