Whoso loves Believes the impossible.

Love dies only when growth stops.

Love is the admiration and cherishing of the amiable qualities of the beloved person, upon the condition of yourself being the object of their action.

Sympathy constitutes friendship; but in love there is a sort of antipathy, or opposing passion. Each strives to be the other, and both together make up one whole.

All thoughts, all passions, all delights, Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are ministers of Love, And feed his sacred flame.

Love, with very young people, is a heartless business. We drink at that age from thirst, or to get drunk; it is only later in life that we occupy ourselves with the individuality of our wine.

With love one can live even without happiness.

Love joins and then divides. How else would we be growing?

Love, the itch, and a cough cannot be hid.

What is first love worth, except to prepare for a second? What does second love bring? Only regret for the first.