Life is but a brief moment. The years go by quickly and old age arrives suddenly before we have an inkling. People desire so many things and waste their days in vain. Some yearn for gold, others for power, yet others for glory and a higher station. But when death's moment nears and they look back at their lives they've lived, they realise they've been happy only during those moments when they've loved.
Love is the delightful interval between meeting a beautiful girl and discovering that she looks like a haddock.
That is the true season of love, when we believe that we alone can love, that no one could ever have loved so before us, and that no one will love in the same way after us.
If, as I can't help suspecting, the dead also feel the pains of separation (and this may be one of their purgatorial sufferings), then for both lovers, and for all pairs of lovers without exception, bereavement is a universal and integral part of our experience of love.
To write a good love letter, you ought to begin without knowing what you mean to say and to finish without knowing what you have written.
Love at first sight is easy to understand; it's when two people have been looking at each other for a lifetime that it becomes a miracle.
Clarity of mind means clarity of passion, too; this is why a great and clear mind loves ardently and sees distinctly what it loves.