Love is frightened at the intervals of insensibility and callousness that encroach by little and little on the dominion of grief, and it makes efforts to recall the keenness of the first anguish.—George Eliot.
Love while 't is day; night cometh soon, wherein no man or maiden may.—Joaquin Miller.
Love has a way of cheating itself consciously, like a child who plays at solitary hide-and-seek; it is pleased with assurances that it all the while disbelieves.—George Eliot.
As soon go kindle fire with snow, as seek to quench the fire of love with words.—Shakespeare.
Loves change sure as man or moon, and wane like warm full days of June.—Joaquin Miller.
Take of love as a sober man takes wine; do not get drunk.—Alfred de Musset.
Love is the admiration and cherishing of the amiable qualities of the beloved person, upon the condition of yourself being the object of their action. The qualities of the sexes correspond. The man's courage is loved by the woman, whose fortitude again is coveted by the man. His vigorous intellect is answered by her infallible tact. Can it be true, what is so constantly affirmed, that there is no sex in souls? I doubt it—I doubt it exceedingly.—Coleridge.
As love increases prudence diminishes.—Rochefoucauld.
Never self-possessed, or prudent, love is all abandonment.—Emerson.
The desire to be beloved is ever restless and unsatisfied; but the love that flows out upon others is a perpetual well-spring from on high.—L. M. Child.