Who never loved ne'er suffered; he feels nothing,
Who nothing feels but for himself alone.
—Young.
Love why do we one passion call,
When 'tis a compound of them all?
Where hot and cold, where sharp and sweet,
In all their equipages meet;
Where pleasures mix'd with pains appear,
Sorrow with joy, and hope with fear.
—Swift.
Nothing more excites to everything noble and generous, than virtuous love.—Henry Home.
Love, free as air, at sight of human ties,
Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies.
—Pope.
But there's nothing half so sweet in life
As love's young dream.
—Moore.
They do not love, that do not show their love.
—Shakespeare.
Love keeps the cold out better than a cloak. It serves for food and raiment.—Longfellow.
That you may be beloved, be amiable.—Ovid.
All these inconveniences are incidents to love: reproaches, jealousies, quarrels, reconcilements, war, and then peace.—Terence.
Love seizes on us suddenly, without giving warning, and our disposition or our weakness favors the surprise; one look, one glance from the fair, fixes and determines us. Friendship, on the contrary, is a long time forming; it is of slow growth, through many trials and months of familiarity.—La Bruyère.