I offer you peace. I offer you love. I offer you friendship. I see your beauty. I hear your need. I feel your feelings. My wisdom flows from the Highest Source. I salute that Source in you. Let us work together for unity and love.
Today I begin to understand what love must be, if it exists.... When we are parted, we each feel the lack of the other half of ourselves. We are incomplete like a book in two volumes of which the first has been lost. That is what I imagine love to be: incompleteness in absence.
Ah, when to the heart of man Was it ever less than a treason To go with the drift of things To yield with a grace to reason And bow and accept at the end Of a love or a season.
Aesthetic emotion puts man in a state favorable to the reception of erotic emotion…. Art is the accomplice of love. Take love away and there is no longer art.
I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge That myth is more potent than history That dreams are more powerful than facts That hope always triumphs over experience That laughter is the only cure for grief And I believe that love is stronger than death.
Love your children with all your hearts, love them enough to discipline them before it is too late. ... Praise them for important things, even if you have to stretch them a bit. Praise them a lot. They live on it like bread and butter and they need it more than bread and butter.
When you work you fulfil a part of earth''s furthest dream, assigned to you when that dream was born. And in keeping yourself with labour you are in truth loving life, And to love life through labour is to be intimate with life''s inmost secret.
None of us here in Washington knows all or even half of the answers … If you love your country, don''t depend on handouts from Washington for your information. If you cherish your freedom, don''t leave it all up to big government.
For every romantic possiblity, no matter how robust, there exists at least one equal and opposite sentence, phrase, or word capable of extinguishing it.
Who will tell whether one happy moment of love, or the joy of breathing or walking on a bright morning and smelling the fresh air, is not worth all the suffering and effort which life implies?
To be loved for what one is, is the greatest exception. The great majority love in others only what they lend him, their own selves, their version of him.
Love, unrequited, robs me of my rest: Love, hopeless love, my ardent soul encumbers: Love, nightmare-like, lies heavy on my chest, And weaves itself into my midnight slumbers!