A god could hardly love and be wise.

Love, like a tear, rises in the eye and falls upon the breast.

Love is not dumb. The heart speaks many ways.

None love, but they who wish to love.

The man who has never made a fool of himself in love will never be wise in love.

There is need of variety in sex, but not in love.

Beyond the wounds of the child and the scars of the man, there is something in the heart of love itself that makes love pathetic.

For one human being to love another: that is perhaps the most difficult of all our tasks, the ultimate, the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation.

To be loved means to be consumed. To love is to give light with inexhaustible oil. To be loved is to pass away, to love is to endure.

Not to believe in love is a great sign of dulness. There are some people so indirect and lumbering that they think all real affection must rest on circumstantial evidence.