Quotes about Love

Love gives insight, Maggie, and insight often gives foreboding. Listen to me, let me supply you with books; do let me see you sometimes, be your brother and teacher, as you said at Lorton. It is less wrong that you should see me than that you should be committing this long suicide.

Perhaps I feel about you as the artist does about the scene over which his soul has brooded with love: he would tremble to see it confided to other hands; he would never believe that it could bear for another all the meaning and the beauty it bears for him.

Love seeketh not itself to please, Nor for itself hath any care But for another gives its ease And builds a heaven in hell's despair Love seeketh only self to please, To bind another to its delight, Joys in another's loss of ease, And builds a hell in heaven's despite." —W. Blake: Songs of Experience

Love is natural; but surely pity and faithfulness and memory are natural too. And they would live in me still, and punish me if I did not obey them. I should be haunted by the suffering I had caused. Our love would be poisoned.

Oh, you dear good father! cried Mary, putting her hands round her father's neck, while he bent his head placidly, willing to be caressed. I wonder if any other girl thinks her father the best man in the world! Nonsense, child; you'll think your husband better. Impossible, said Mary, relapsing into her usual tone; husbands are an inferior class of men, who require keeping in order.

Minds that have been unhinged from their old faith and love, have perhaps sought this Lethean influence of exile, in which the past becomes dreamy because its symbols have all vanished, and the present too is dreamy because it is linked with no memories.

Where women love each other, men learn to smother their mutual dislike.

The calendar hath not an evil day For souls made one by love, and even death Were sweetness, if it came like rolling waves While they two clasped each other, and foresaw No life apart.

Even much stronger mortals than Fred Vincy hold half their rectitude in the mind of the being they love best.

There are few prophets in the world; few sublimely beautiful women; few heroes. I can't afford to give all my love and reverence to such rarities: I want a great deal of those feelings for my every-day fellow-men, especially for the few in the foreground of the great multitude, whose faces I know, whose hands I touch, for whom I have to make way with kindly courtesy.

Fred at six years old thought her the nicest girl in the world, making her his wife with a brass ring which he had cut from an umbrella.

In their death they were not divided.