Love is a springtime plant that perfumes everything with its hope, even the ruins to which it clings.
Love is a springtime plant that perfumes everything with its hope
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.
Love to faults is always blind, always is to joy inclined. Lawless, winged, and unconfined, and breaks all chains from every mind.
What love we've given, we'll have forever. What love we fail to give, will be lost for all eternity.