When a man is in love he endures more than at other times; he submits to everything.

I am the least difficult of men. All I want is boundless love.

Family love is messy, clinging, and of an annoying and repetitive pattern, like bad wallpaper.

Love fed fat soon turns to boredom.

Love is a driver, bitter and fierce if you fight and resist him, Easy-going enough once you acknowledge his power.

Love is a naked child: do you think he has pockets for money?

Love's dominion, like a kings, admits of no partition.

Every loves the love before In a duller dress.

We conceal it from ourselves in vain-we must always love something. In those matters seemingly removed from love, the feeling is secretly to be found, and man cannot possibly live for a moment without it.

We never, then, love a person, but only qualities.