Miracles occur naturally as expressions of love. The real miracle is the love that inspires them. In this sense everything that comes from love is a miracle.
To write a good love letter, you ought to begin without knowing what you mean to say, and to finish without knowing what you have written.
Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.
You know you're in love when you stop comparing.
Sometimes it's a form of love just to talk to somebody that you have nothing in common with and still be fascinated by their presence.
It is only with the heart that one can see rightly.
If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day so I never have to live without you.
There is nothing holier in this life of ours than the first consciousness of love, the first fluttering of its silken wings.
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.
It's never too late to fall in love.
Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.
You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.
A successful marriage requires falling in love many times, always with the same person.
A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous.
'Twas not my lips you kissed but my soul.
And now here is my secret, a very simple secret; it is only with the heart that one can see rightly, what is essential is invisible to the eye.
Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own.
Other men it is said have seen angels, but I have seen thee and thou art enough.
The hours I spend with you I look upon as sort of a perfumed garden, a dim twilight, and a fountain singing to it. You and you alone make me feel that I am alive. Other men it is said have seen angels, but I have seen thee and thou art enough.
Romantic Art: The Hearts Awakening - Bouguereau At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet.
Everyone admits that love is wonderful and necessary, yet no one agrees on just what it is.
Sweet is true love that is given in vain, and sweet is death that takes away pain.
Love is a perky elf dancing a merry little jig and then suddenly he turns on you with a miniature machine gun.
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
The lover knows much more about absolute good and universal beauty than any logician or theologian, unless the latter, too, be lovers in disguise.
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