Love and you shall be loved.
Love is the flower of life, and blossoms unexpectedly and without law, and must be plucked where it is found, and enjoyed for the brief hour of its duration.
The love we give away is the only love we keep.
Love gives itself; it is not bought.
Somebody loves us, too - God Himself. We have been created to love and to be loved.
People discuss my art and pretend to understand as if it were necessary to understand, when it's simply necessary to love.
A woman has two smiles that an angel might envy, the smile that accepts a lover before words are uttered, and the smile that lights on the first born babe, and assures it of a mother's love.
We cannot love unless we have accepted forgiveness, and the deeper our experience of forgiveness is, the greater is our love.
Love is a gift. You can't buy it, you can't find it, someone has to give it to you. Learn to be receptive of that gift.
Love is, above all, the gift of oneself.
Is not a kiss the very autograph of love?
There is the kiss of welcome and of parting, the long, lingering, loving, present one; the stolen, or the mutual one; the kiss of love, of joy, and of sorrow; the seal of promise and receipt of fulfillment.
Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth - for your love is more delightful than wine
There is one thing one has to have: either a soul that is cheerful by nature, or a soul made cheerful by work, love, art, and knowledge.
Love means to love that which is unlovable; or it is no virtue at all.
Knowledge is gained by learning;
trust by doubt;
skill by practice;
love by love.
The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it's indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it's indifference.
There are only two kinds of scholars; those who love ideas and those who hate them.
In hatred as in love, we grow like the thing we brood upon. What we loathe, we graft into our very soul.
What anger worse or slower to abate then lovers love when it turns to hate.
Hate must make a man productive. Otherwise one might as well love.
In jealousy there is more self-love than love.
Jealousy would be far less torturous if we understood that love is a passion entirely unrelated to our merits.
Those who never retract their opinions love themselves more than they love the truth.
I hated him with a passion so deep, sometimes it felt like love.