I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.
Pablo NerudaSonnet 29
When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd,
Desiring this man's art and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
Tags: love poetry sonnet-xxix
We can live without religion and meditation, but we cannot survive without human affection.
Dalai Lama XIVTags: love
I love you like a fat kid loves cake!
Scott AdamsSwells, Marina? we ocean, depths, Marina? we sky!
Rainer Maria RilkeTags: love
If one wanted to depict the whole thing graphically, every episode, with its climax, would require a three-dimensional, or, rather, no model: every experience is unrepeatable. What makes lovemaking and reading resemble each other most is that within both of them times and spaces open, different from measurable time and space.
Italo CalvinoHe is ugly and sad... but he is all love.
Gabriel García MárquezTags: love
For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul.
Judy GarlandTags: love
If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger.
Emily BrontëTo be loved for what one is, that is the greatest exception. The great majority love in others only what they lend him; their own selves, their version of him.
Johann Wolfgang von GoetheTags: love
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