Love is the poetry of the senses.

When we lose one we love, our bitterest tears are called forth by the memory of hours when we loved not enough.

Fortune and love favor the brave.

I love that feeling of being in love, the effect of having butterflies when you wake up in the morning. That is special.

Nothing can bring a real sense of security into the home except true love.

Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies.

There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.

It is very easy to love alone.

Falling in love consists merely in uncorking the imagination and bottling the common sense.

There is only one kind of love, but there are a thousand imitations.