We never know the love of the parent for the child till we become parents.
Of all the music that reached farthest into heaven, it is the beating of a loving heart.
Young love is a flame; very pretty, often very hot and fierce, but still only light and flickering. The love of the older and disciplined heart is as coals, deep-burning, unquenchable.
There is no friendship, no love, like that of the parent for the child.
The sun does not shine for a few trees and flowers, but for the wide world's joy.
I never knew how to worship until I knew how to love.
Love is the river of life in this world.
Love cannot endure indifference. It needs to be wanted. Like a lamp, it needs to be fed out of the oil of another's heart, or its flame burns low.
What the heart has once owned and had, it shall never lose.
Love is the river of life in this world. Think not that ye know it who stand at the little tinkling rill, the first small fountain. Not until you have gone through the rocky gorges, and not lost the stream; not until you nave gone through the meadow, and the stream has widened and deepened until fleets could ride on its bosom; not until beyond the meadow you have come to the unfathomable ocean, and poured your treasures into its depths--not until then can you know what love is.
When there is love in the heart, there are rainbows in the eyes, which cover every black cloud with gorgeous hues.
It is not merely cruelty that leads men to love war, it is excitement.
Fear secretes acids; but love and trust are sweet juices.
Love is the wine of existence.
He who hunts for flowers will finds flowers; and he who loves weeds will find weeds.
It is a man dying with his harness on that angels love to escort upward.
To the great tree-loving fraternity we belong. We love trees with universal and unfeigned love, and all things that do grow under them or around them - the whole leaf and root tribe. Not alone when they are in their glory, but in whatever state they are - in leaf, or rimed with frost, or powdered with snow, or crystal-sheathed in ice, or in severe outline stripped and bare against a November sky - we love them.
There is not on earth so base a knave as the man who wins the love of a woman when he knows that he cannot or ought not to requite it.
Love is ownership. We own whom we love. The universe is God's because He loves.
Loving is like music. Some instruments can go up two octaves, some four, and some all the way from black thunder to sharp lightning. As some of them are susceptible only of melody, so some hearts can sing but one song of love, while others will fun in a full choral harmony.
But when we borrow trouble, and look forward into the future to see what storms are coming, and distress ourselves before they come as to how we shall avert them if they ever do come, we lose our proper trustfulness in God. When we torment ourselves with imaginary dangers, or trials, or reverses, we have already parted with that perfect love which casteth out fear.
God's grace is the oil that fills the lamp of love.
Earthly love is a brief and penurious stream, which only flows in spring, with a long summer drought. The change from a burning desert, treeless, springless, drear, to green fields and blooming orchards in June, is slight in comparison with that from the desert of this world's affection to the garden of God, where there is perpetual, tropical luxuriance of blessed love.
Love is the wine of existence. When you have taken that, you have taken the most precious drop that there is in the cluster.
Love, in this world, is like a seed taken from the tropics, and planted where the winter comes too soon; and it cannot spread itself in flower-clusters and wide-twining vines, so that the whole air is filled with the perfume thereof. But there is to be another summer for it yet. Care for the root now, and God will care for the top by and by.
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