Love makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place.

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

When you have really exhausted an experience you always reverence and love it.

Whatever is done for love always occurs beyond good and evil.

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

Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.

Pursue some path, however narrow and crooked, in which you can walk with love and reverence.

When we are in love we seem to ourselves quite different from what we were before.

If you wished to be loved, love.

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.