The rose speaks of love silently, in a language known only to the heart.
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- As Plato sometimes speaks of the divine love, it arises not out of indigency, as created love does, but out of fullness and redundancy; it is an overflowing fountain, and that love which descends upon created being is a free efflux from the almighty source of love; and it is well pleasing to him that those creatures which he hath made should partake of it.
- a heart is not judged by how much you love, but by how much you are loved, by others.
- Love is the bridge between two hearts.
- At any rate, let us love for a while, for a year or so, you and me. That’s a form of divine drunkenness that we can all try.
- But true love is a durable fire, in the mind ever burning. Never sick, never old, never dead. From itself never turning.
- Love is like a poisonous mushroom — you don’t know if it is the real thing until it is too late