Romantic Art: The Hearts Awakening - Bouguereau At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet.
I need you because I love you.
Can there be a love which does not make demands on its object?
Life without love is like a tree without blossoms or fruit.
Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs.
A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous.
Who would give a law to lovers? Love is unto itself a higher law.
"Love is not altogether a Delirium," says he elsewhere; "yet has it many points in common therewith."
The way to love anything is to realize that it may be lost.
It is a curious thought, but it is only when you see people looking ridiculous that you realize just how much you love them.
Sympathy constitutes friendship; but in love there is a sort of antipathy, or opposing passion. Each strives to be the other, and both together make up one whole.
Tell me who you walk with, and I'll tell you who you are.
How did it happen that their lips came together? How does it happen that birds sing, that snow melts, that the rose unfolds, that the dawn whitens behind the stark shapes of trees on the quivering summit of the hill? A kiss, and all was said.
Love is my religion - I could die for it.
Don't forget to love yourself.
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.
We don't love qualities, we love persons; sometimes by reason of their defects as well as of their qualities.
Those who are faithful know only the trivial side of love: it is the faithless who know love's tragedies.
Tell me what you eat, and I will tell you who you are.
All you need is love. But a little chocolate now and then doesn't hurt.
Soul meets soul on lovers' lips.
To fall in love is easy, even to remain in it is not difficult; our human loneliness is cause enough. But it is a hard quest worth making to find a comrade through whose steady presence one becomes steadily the person one desires to be.
Love is what you've been through with somebody.
Life isn't long enough for love and art.
Years of love have been forgot, In the hatred of a minute.
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