Today I begin to understand what love must be, if it exists.... When we are parted, we each feel the lack of the other half of ourselves. We are incomplete like a book in two volumes of which the first has been lost. That is what I imagine love to be: incompleteness in absence.

Like the measles, love is most dangerous when it comes late in life.

Among those whom I like or admire, I can find no common denominator, but among those whom I love, I can: all of them make me laugh.

The love we give away is the only love we keep.

Never have partners.

Love's like the measles, all the worse when it comes late.

Do you want me to tell you something really subversive? Love is everything it is cracked up to be. That is why people are so cynical about it. . . . It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. And the trouble is, if you do not risk anything, you risk even more.

I cannot love as I have loved, And yet I know not why; It is the one great woe of life To feel all feeling die.

Love lessens a woman delicacy and increases a man.

O tyrant love, when held by you, We may to prudence bid adieu.

There is only one sort of love, but there are a thousand copies.

True love is like ghosts, which everybody talks about and few have seen.

Sometimes we are less unhappy in being deceived by those we love, than in being undeceived by them.

To a person in love, the value of the individual is intuitively known. Love needs no logic for its missi

Love gives itself; it is not bought.

This was love at first sight, love everlasting: a feeling unknown, unhoped for, unexpected-in so far as it could be a matter of conscious awareness; it took entire possession of him, and he understood, with joyous amazement, that this was for life.

We do not love qualities, we love persons; sometimes by reason of their defects as well as of their qualities.

We are not the same persons this year as last; nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person.

Love: the delusion that one woman differs from another.

Romantic love is an illusion. Most of us discover this truth at the end of a love affair or else when the sweet emotions of love lead us into marriage and then turn down their flames.