This is love: to fly toward a secret sky,
To cause a hundred veils to fall each moment.
First to let go of life.
Finally, to take a step without feet.
Give me a kiss, and to that kiss a score;
Then to that twenty, add a hundred more:
A thousand to that hundred:
So kiss on, to make that thousand up a million.
Treble that million, and when that is done,
Let’s kiss afresh, as when we first begun
On Valentine’s Day, we are reminded what our relationships could be like the other 364.
The hours I spend with you I look upon as a 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.
George Edward Moore.
Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does.
Love is a battle, love is a war; love is a growing up.
James A. Baldwin
Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea
But sad mortality o’er-sways their power,
How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,
Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
O, how shall summer’s honey breath hold out
Against the wrackful siege of batt’ring days,
When rocks impregnable are not so stout,
Nor gates of steel so strong, but time decays?
O fearful meditation! where, alack,
Shall time’s best jewel from time’s chest lie hid?
Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back?
Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid?
O, none, unless this miracle have might,
That in black ink my love may still shine bright.
Love has no desire but to fulfill itself.
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving.
Most people are slow to champion love because they fear the transformation it brings into their lives.
And make no mistake about it: love does take over and transform the schemes and operations of our egos in a very mighty way.
It’s a curious thought, but it is only when you see people looking ridiculous, that you realize just how much you love them.
Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.
Outsoaring mine, sang such a loftier song
As drowned the friendly cooings of my dove.
Which owes the other most? my love was long,
And yours one moment seemed to wax more strong;
I loved and guessed at you, you construed me
And loved me for what might or might not be –
Nay, weights and measures do us both a wrong.
For verily love knows not ‘mine’ or ‘thine;’
With separate ‘I’ and ‘thou’ free love has done,
For one is both and both are one in love:
Rich love knows nought of ‘thine that is not mine;’
Both have the strength and both the length thereof,
Both of us, of the love which makes us one.
Love is as much of an object as an obsession
Everybody wants it
Everybody seeks it
But few ever achieve it.
Those who do will cherish it
Be lost in it
And among all
Never… never forget it.
To be brave is to love unconditionally without expecting anything in return.
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.
When you are loved, you can do anything in creation.
When you are loved, there’s no need at all to understand what’s happening, because everything happens within you.
We stood by a pond that winter day,
And the sun was white, as though chidden of God,
And a few leaves lay on the starving sod;
They had fallen from an ash, and were gray.
Your eyes on me were as eyes that rove
Over tedious riddles of years ago;
And some words played between us to and fro
On which lost the more by our love.
The smile on your mouth was the deadest thing
Alive enough to have strength to die;
And a grin of bitterness swept thereby
Like an ominous bird a-wing….
Since then, keen lessons that love deceives,
And wrings with wrong, have shaped to me
Your face, and the God curst sun, and a tree,
And a pond edged with grayish leaves.
I don’t want to live, I want to love first and live intentionally.
You don’t love someone because they’re perfect, you love them in spite of the fact that they’re not.
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If my Valentine you won't be, I'll hang myself on your Christmas tree.
It has been so wet stones glaze in moss;
everything blooms coldly.
I expect you.
I thought one night it was you at the base of the drive,
You at the foot of the stairs,
You in a shiver of light, but each time leaves in wind revealed themselves,
The retreating shadow of a fox, daybreak.
We expect you, cat and I, bluebirds and I, the stove.
In May we dreamed of wreaths burning on bonfires over which young men and women leapt.
June efforts quietly.
I’ve planted vegetables along each garden wall so even if spring continues to disappoint
We can say at least the lettuce loved the rain.
I have new gloves and a new hoe.
I practice eulogies. He was a hawk with white feathered legs.
She had the quiet ribs of a salamander crossing the old pony post road.
Yours is the name the leaves chatter
at the edge of the unrabbited woods.
The best love is the kind that awakens the soul and makes us reach for more, that plants a fire in our hearts and brings peace to our minds.