Better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all

Relish love in our old age! Aged love is like aged wine; it becomes more satisfying, more refreshing, more valuable, more appreciated and more intoxicating!

Love is the master key opens the gates of happiness.

After all, what is happiness? Love, they tell me. But love doesn't bring and never has brought happiness. On the contrary, it's a constant state of anxiety, a battlefield; it's sleepless nights, asking ourselves all the time if we're doing the right thing. Real love is composed of ecstasy and agony.

Affection is responsible for nine-tenths of whatever solid and durable happiness there is in our lives.

Like some wines, our love could neither mature nor travel.

No lover, if he be of good faith, and sincere, will deny he would prefer to see his mistress dead than unfaithful.

What recourse do we have but to be of mutual help to one another and to forgive those who fall, since we ourselves have already fallen or are about to fall?

Cassie grabbed at the heavy skillet she had hanging on a peg on the wall, and Red rushed to lift it for her. She whacked at his hands with a wooden spoon. "Don't you have any chores to do outside?" "I'm carrying this frying pan for you." Red pried her fingers off it. "Now tell me where you want it.

Not just romantic love, but love so deep, so full of respect, so full of gratitude for saving her from loneliness. He'd protected her when no man ever had before. She didn't even fear it or regret how vulnerable it made her to love Gage. It was too powerful, too wonderful.

Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of withering, of tarnishing.

To find someone who will love you for no reason, and to shower that person with reasons, that is the ultimate happiness.