Love is a springtime plant that perfumes everything with its hope, even the ruins to which it clings.

One is loved because one is loved. No reason is needed for loving.

Love is a gross exaggeration of the difference between one person and everybody else.

Each moment of a happy lover's hour is worth an age of dull and common life.

Love is the hardest habit to break, and the most difficult to satisfy.

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

There is no scarcity of opportunity to make a living at what you love there's only scarcity of resolve to make it happen.

Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead.

Love is an emotion experienced by the many and enjoyed by the few.

Friendship may, and often does, grow into love, but love never subsides into friendship.