Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within.
You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.
The love we give away is the only love we keep.
The greatest happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved; loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves.
Love makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place.
The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched - they must be felt with the heart.
To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.
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 waste time looking for the perfect lover, instead of creating the perfect love.
We are not the same persons this year as last; nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person.
A purpose of human life, no matter who is controlling it, is to love whoever is around to be loved.
Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own.
Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.
There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.
Love yourself first and everything else falls into line. You really have to love yourself to get anything done in this world.
For one human being to love another; that is perhaps the most difficult of all our tasks, the ultimate, the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation.
Take away love and our earth is a tomb.
Love is a mutual self-giving which ends in self-recovery.
Love is a fire. But whether it is going to warm your hearth or burn down your house, you can never tell.
We are each of us angels with only one wing, and we can only fly by embracing one another.
We are all born for love. It is the principle of existence, and its only end.
It takes courage to love, but pain through love is the purifying fire which those who love generously know. We all know people who are so much afraid of pain that they shut themselves up like clams in a shell and, giving out nothing, receive nothing and therefore shrink until life is a mere living death.
Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love.
Nobody has ever measured, not even poets, how much the heart can hold.
We can only learn to love by loving.
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