... she was not only close to him, but ... he could not now tell where she ended and he began.

We do not love people so much for the good they have done us, as for the good we have done them.

Like anyone in love, she constantly found reasons to mention his name.

Simply watching her-simply sitting at the kitchen table watching her knead a loaf of bread-filled him with contentment.

I love you taller and fatter than the whole universe.

Though we cannot think alike, may we not love alike?

Platonic love is love from the neck up.

Love stoops as fondly as he soars.

Love before the world did move.

The face of a lover is an unknown, precisely because it is invested with so much of oneself. It is a mystery, containing, like all mysteries, the possibility of torment.