Love is merely madness…
William Shakespeare
Love is merely madness…
Will you love me in December as you do in May,
Will you love me in the good old fashioned way?
When my hair has all turned gray,
Will you kiss me then and say,
That you love me in December as you do in May?
Him that I love, I wish to be free — even from me.
We only regard those unions as real examples of love and real marriages in which a fixed and unalterable decision has been taken. If men or women contemplate an escape, they do not collect all their powers for the task. In none of the serious and important tasks of life do we arrange such a “getaway.” We cannot love and be limited.
Love, you know, seeks to make happy rather than to be happy.
What the heart gives away is never gone … It is kept in the hearts of others.
Love is but the discovery of ourselves in others, and the delight in the recognition.
Love is the seed of all hope.
It is the enticement to trust, to risk, to try, to go on.
The greatest tragedy of life is not that men perish,
but that they cease to love.
The human heart, at whatever age,
opens to the heart that opens in return.