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  Quotations - Love  
[Quote No.53330] Need Area: Friends > Love
"[Poem: about true love and sex - chaste beauty - virginal virtue.]

'Sonnet 94: They that have power to hurt and will do none'

They that have power to hurt and will do none,
That do not do the thing they most do show,
Who, moving others, are themselves as stone,
Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow:
They rightly do inherit heaven's graces
And husband nature's riches from expense;
They are the lords and owners of their faces,
Others but stewards of their excellence.
The summer's flower is to the summer sweet
Though to itself it only live and die,
But if that flower with base infection meet,
The basest weed outbraves his dignity:
For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds;
Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.

" - William Shakespeare
(1564 – 1616), English playwright and poet.
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[Quote No.53333] Need Area: Friends > Love
"[Poem: about true love, sex and religious morality - virginal virtue]

'The Garden of Love'

I went to the Garden of Love,
And saw what I never had seen:
A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green.

And the gates of this Chapel were shut,
And 'Thou shalt not' writ over the door;
So I turn'd to the Garden of Love,
That so many sweet flowers bore.

And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tomb-stones where flowers should be:
And Priests in black gowns, were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars, my joys and desires.

" - William Blake
(1757–1827), English poet, painter, and printmaker.
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[Quote No.53337] Need Area: Friends > Love
"[Poem: about love versus lust]

'Venus and Adonis'

...

Love comforteth like sunshine after rain,
But Lust's effect is tempest after sun;
Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain,
Lust's winter comes ere summer half be done;
Love surfeits not, Lust like a glutton dies;
Love is all truth, Lust full of forged lies.

...

" - William Shakespeare
English Playwright and poet. From his poem, 'Venus and Adonis', lines 799-804, spoken by Adonis. It was written in 1592–1593, with a plot based on passages from Ovid's 'Metamorphoses'.
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[Quote No.53338] Need Area: Friends > Love
"[Poem: about faithful, true love]

'Sonnet 116'

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

" - William Shakespeare
(1564 - 1616) English poet and dramatist.
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[Quote No.53339] Need Area: Friends > Love
"[Poem: about carnal lust rather than true love]

'Sonnet 147'

My love is as a fever, longing still
For that which longer nurseth the disease,
Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
The uncertain sickly appetite to please.
My reason, the physician to my love,
Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,
Hath left me, and I desperate now approve
Desire is death, which physic did except.
Past cure I am, now reason is past care,
And frantic-mad with evermore unrest;
My thoughts and my discourse as madmen's are,
At random from the truth vainly express'd;
For I have sworn thee fair and thought thee bright,
Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.

" - William Shakespeare
(1564 - 1616) English poet and dramatist.

[appetite = unhealthy desires of the body.
physic = reason
]

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[Quote No.53340] Need Area: Friends > Love
"[Poem: love and the effort and excitement of dating]

'Meeting at Night'

I
The grey sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half-moon large and low;
And the startled little waves that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
And quench its speed i' the slushy sand.

II
Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;
Three fields to cross till a farm appears;
A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch
And blue spurt of a lighted match,
And a voice less loud, thro' its joys and fears,
Than the two hearts beating each to each!

" - Robert Browning
(1812 – 1889) English poet and playwright whose mastery of dramatic verse, especially dramatic monologues, made him one of the foremost Victorian poets. He married the poet Elizabeth Barrett, 6 years his elder, in 1846.
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[Quote No.53347] Need Area: Friends > Love
"[Poem: about true love that came late in life]

'At Last'

At last, when all the summer shine
That warmed life's early hours is past,
Your loving fingers seek for mine
And hold them close at last, at last!
Not oft the robin comes to build
Its nest upon the leafless bough
By autumn robbed, by winter chilled,
But you, dear heart, you love me now.

Though there are shadows on my brow
And furrows on my cheek, in truth,
The marks where Time's remorseless plough
Broke up the blooming sward of Youth,
Though fled is every girlish grace
Might win or hold a lover's vow,
Despite my sad and faded face,
And darkened heart, you love me now!

I count no more my wasted tears;
They left no echo of their fall;
I mourn no more my lonesome years;
This blessed hour atones for all.
I fear not all that Time or Fate
May bring to burden heart or brow,
Strong in the love that came so late,
Our souls shall keep it always now!

" - Elizabeth Akers Allen
(1832 - 1911) American author, journalist and poet.
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[Quote No.53369] Need Area: Friends > Love
"[Poem: about love and first kisses]

'Sonnets from the Portuguese' 38:
'First time he kissed me, he but only kissed'

First time he kissed me, he but only kissed
The fingers of this hand wherewith I write,
And ever since it grew more clean and white,...
Slow to world-greetings...quick with its 'Oh, list,'
When the angels speak. A ring of amethyst
I could not wear here plainer to my sight,
Than that first kiss. The second passed in height
The first, and sought the forehead, and half missed,
Half falling on the hair. O beyond meed!
That was the chrism of love, which love’s own crown,
With sanctifying sweetness, did precede.
The third, upon my lips, was folded down
In perfect, purple state! since when, indeed,
I have been proud and said, 'My Love, my own.'

" - Elizabeth Barrett Browning
(1806-1861), one of the most prominent English poets of the Victorian era. Her poetry was widely popular in both Britain and the United States during her lifetime. She married Robert Browning in 1846, after first receiving a letter from him praising her poetry and then meeting him both in 1845. The above Sonnet XXXVIII 'First time he kissed me, he but only kissed' was from her collection entitled 'Sonnets from the Portuguese', composed in 1845 and published in 1850. 'My Little Portuguese' was a pet name that Robert Browning had adopted for Elizabeth. The title of 'Sonnets from the Portuguese' also refers to the series of sonnets of the 16th-century Portuguese poet Luís de Camões; in all these poems she used rhyme schemes typical of the Portuguese sonnets.
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[Quote No.53370] Need Area: Friends > Love
"[Poem: about whether it is true love]

'A Woman’s Shortcomings'

She has laughed as softly as if she sighed,
She has counted six, and over,
Of a purse well filled, and a heart well tried -
Oh, each a worthy lover!
They 'give her time'; for her soul must slip
Where the world has set the grooving;
She will lie to none with her fair red lip:
But love seeks truer loving.

She trembles her fan in a sweetness dumb,
As her thoughts were beyond recalling;
With a glance for one, and a glance for some,
From her eyelids rising and falling;
Speaks common words with a blushful air,
Hears bold words, unreproving;
But her silence says - what she never will swear -
And love seeks better loving.

Go, lady! lean to the night-guitar,
And drop a smile to the bringer;
Then smile as sweetly, when he is far,
At the voice of an in-door singer.
Bask tenderly beneath tender eyes;
Glance lightly, on their removing;
And join new vows to old perjuries -
But dare not call it loving!

Unless you can think, when the song is done,
No other is soft in the rhythm;
Unless you can feel, when left by One,
That all men else go with him;
Unless you can know, when unpraised by his breath,
That your beauty itself wants proving;
Unless you can swear 'For life, for death!' -
Oh, fear to call it loving!

Unless you can muse in a crowd all day
On the absent face that fixed you;
Unless you can love, as the angels may,
With the breadth of heaven betwixt you;
Unless you can dream that his faith is fast,
Through behoving and unbehoving;
Unless you can die when the dream is past -
Oh, never call it loving!

" - Elizabeth Barrett Browning
(1806-1861), one of the most prominent English poets of the Victorian era. Her poetry was widely popular in both Britain and the United States during her lifetime. She married Robert Browning in 1846, after first receiving a letter from him praising her poetry and then meeting him both in 1845. This poem was first published in 1846, in 'Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine' along with its companion poem, 'A Man's Requirements'.
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[Quote No.53371] Need Area: Friends > Love
"[Poem: about how she wanted to be loved and shown love]

'A Man's Requirements'

I
Love me Sweet, with all thou art,
Feeling, thinking, seeing;
Love me in the lightest part,
Love me in full being.

II
Love me with thine open youth
In its frank surrender;
With the vowing of thy mouth,
With its silence tender.

III
Love me with thine azure eyes,
Made for earnest granting;
Taking colour from the skies,
Can Heaven’s truth be wanting?

IV
Love me with their lids, that fall
Snow-like at first meeting;
Love me with thine heart, that all
Neighbours then see beating.

V
Love me with thine hand stretched out
Freely-open-minded:
Love me with thy loitering foot, -
Hearing one behind it.

VI
Love me with thy voice, that turns
Sudden faint above me;
Love me with thy blush that burns
When I murmur Love me!

VII
Love me with thy thinking soul,
Break it to love-sighing;
Love me with thy thoughts that roll
On through living-dying.

VIII
Love me when in thy gorgeous airs,
When the world has crowned thee;
Love me, kneeling at thy prayers,
With the angels round thee.

IX
Love me pure, as musers do,
Up the woodlands shady:
Love me gaily, fast and true
As a winsome lady.

X
Through all hopes that keep us brave,
Farther off or nigher,
Love me for the house and grave,
And for something higher.

XI
Thus, if thou wilt prove me, Dear,
Woman’s love no fable.
I will love thee - half a year -
As a man is able.

" - Elizabeth Barrett Browning
(1806-1861), one of the most prominent English poets of the Victorian era. Her poetry was widely popular in both Britain and the United States during her lifetime. She married Robert Browning in 1846, after first receiving a letter from him praising her poetry and then meeting him both in 1845. This poem was first published in 1846, in 'Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine' along with its companion poem, 'A Woman's Shortcomings'.
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[Quote No.53390] Need Area: Friends > Love
"[Poem: about love and how with some special people we feel at ease to talk freely and be our happy, best selves]

'Sonnet'

When midst the summer-roses the warm bees
Are swarming in the sun, and thou -- so full
Of innocent glee -- dost with thy white hands pull
Pink scented apples from the garden trees
To fling at me, I catch them, on my knees,
Like those who gathered manna; and I cull
Some hasty buds to pelt thee -- white as wool
Lilies, or yellow jonquils, or heartsease; --
Then I can speak my love, even though thy smiles
Gush out among thy blushes, like a flock
Of bright birds from rose-bowers; but when thou'rt gone
I have no speech, -- no magic that beguiles,
The stream of utterance from the hardened rock: --
The dial cannot speak without the sun!

" - Calder Campbell
(1798–1857), Robert Calder Campbell, poet and author, was born in 1798 in Scotland, the son of Rev. Pryce Campbell, the minister in Ardessier. He joined the Madras army in 1818 as a lieutenant, served in the Burmese War (1826–27), and retired in 1839 at the rank of major. He began a literary career with 'Lays of the East' (1831) which he followed with two other collections of poems. During his life, Campbell's poetry was admired and appeared in numerous periodicals and annuals. He wrote one novel: 'Winter Nights' (1850). Campbell had a wide circle of friends, especially artists, such as sculptor Alexander Munro and painter Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Campbell died in 1857 in London.
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[Quote No.53394] Need Area: Friends > Love
"[Poem: about the drawbacks of love and believing he'd be better off without it as a bachelor]

'Love: An Elegy'

Too much my heart of Beauty's power hath known,
Too long to Love hath reason left her throne;
Too long my genius mourn'd his myrtle chain,
And three rich years of youth consum'd in vain.
My wishes, lull'd with soft inglorious dreams,
Forgot the patriot's and the sage's themes:
Through each Elysian vale and fairy grove,
Through all the enchanted paradise of love,
Misled by sickly hope's deceitful flame,
Averse to action, and renouncing fame.

At last the visionary scenes decay,
My eyes, exulting, bless the new-born day,
Whose faithful beams detect the dangerous road
In which my heedless feet securely trod,
And strip the phantoms of their lying charms
That lur'd my soul from Wisdom's peaceful arms.

For silver streams and banks bespread with flowers,
For mossy couches and harmonious bowers,
Lo! barren heaths appear, and pathless woods,
And rocks hung dreadful o'er unfathom'd floods:
For openness of heart, for tender smiles,
Looks fraught with love, and wrath-disarming wiles;
Lo! sullen Spite, and perjur'd Lust of Gain,
And cruel Pride, and crueller Disdain;
Lo! cordial Faith to idiot airs refin'd,
Now coolly civil, now transporting kind.
For graceful Ease, lo! Affectation walks;
And dull Half-sense, for Wit and Wisdom talks.
New to each hour what low delight succeeds,
What precious furniture of hearts and heads!
By nought their prudence, but by getting, known,
And all their courage in deceiving shown.

See next what plagues attend the lover's state,
What frightful forms of Terror, Scorn, and Hate!
See burning Fury heaven and earth defy!
See Dumb Despair in icy fetters lie!
See black Suspicion bend his gloomy brow,
The hideous image of himself to view!
And fond Belief, with all a lover's flame,
Sink in those arms that point his head with shame!
There wan Dejection, faltering as he goes,
In shades and silence vainly seeks repose;
Musing through pathless wilds, consumes the day,
Then lost in darkness weeps the hours away.
Here the gay crowd of Luxury advance,
Some touch the lyre, and others urge the dance;
On every head the rosy garland glows,
In every hand the golden goblet flows
The Syren views them with exulting eyes,
And laughs at bashful Virtue as she flies.
But see behind, where Scorn and Want appear,
The grave remonstrance and the witty sneer;
See fell Remorse in action, prompt to dart
Her snaky poison through the conscious heart;
And Sloth to cancel, with oblivious shame,
The fair memorial of recording Fame.

Are these delights that one would wish to gain?
Is this the Elysium of a sober brain?
To wait for happiness in female smiles,
Bear all her scorn, be caught with all her wiles,
With prayers, with bribes, with lies, her pity crave,
Bless her hard bonds, and boast to be her slave;
To feel, for trifles, a distracting train
Of hopes and terrors equally in vain;
This hour to tremble, and the next to glow,
Can Pride, can Sense, can Reason, stoop so low?
When Virtue, at an easier price, displays
The sacred wreaths of honourable praise;
When Wisdom utters her divine decree,
To laugh at pompous Folly, and be free.

I bid adieu, then, to these woful scenes;
I bid adieu to all the sex of queens;
Adieu to every suffering, simple soul,
That lets a woman's will his ease control.
There laugh, ye witty; and rebuke, ye grave!
For me, I scorn to boast that I'm a slave.
I bid the whining brotherhood be gone:
Joy to my heart! my wishes are my own!
Farewell the female heaven, the female hell;
To the great God of Love a glad farewell.
Is this the triumph of thy awful name?
Are these the splendid hopes that urg'd thy aim,
When first my bosom own'd thy haughty sway?
When thus Minerva heard thee boasting, say,
'Go, martial maid, elsewhere thy arts employ,
Nor hope to shelter that devoted boy,
Go teach the solemn sons of Care and Age,
The pensive statesman, and the midnight sage:
The young with me must other lessons prove,
Youth calls for Pleasure, Pleasure calls for Love.
Behold, his heart thy grave advice disdains;
Behold, I bind him in eternal chains.'
Alas! great Love, how idle was the boast!
Thy chains are broken, and thy lessons lost;
Thy wilful rage has tir'd my suffering heart,
And passion, reason, forc'd thee to depart.
But wherefore dost thou linger on thy way?
Why vainly search for some pretence to stay,
When crowds of vassals court thy pleasing yoke,
And countless victims bow them to the stroke?
Lo! round thy shrine a thousand youths advance,
Warm with the gentle ardours of romance;
Each longs to assert thy cause with feats of arms,
And make the world confess Dulcinea's charms.

Ten thousand girls with flowery chaplets crown'd,
To groves and streams thy tender triumph sound:
Each bids the stream in murmurs speak her flame,
Each calls the grove to sigh her shepherd's name.
But, if thy pride such easy honour scorn,
If nobler trophies must thy toil adorn,
Behold yon flowery antiquated maid
Bright in the bloom of threescore years display'd;
Her shalt thou bind in thy delightful chains,
And thrill with gentle pangs her wither'd veins,
Her frosty cheek with crimson blushes dye,
With dreams of rapture melt her maudlin eye.

Turn then thy labours to the servile crowd,
Entice the wary, and control the proud;
Make the sad miser his best gains forego,
The solemn statesman sigh to be a beau,
The bold coquette with fondest passions burn,
The Bacchanalian o'er his bottle mourn;
And that chief glory of thy power maintain,
'To poise ambition in a female brain.'
Be these thy triumphs; but no more presume
That my rebellious heart will yield thee room:
I know thy puny force, thy simple wiles;
I break triumphant through thy flimsy toils;
I see thy dying lamp's last languid glow,
Thy arrows blunted and unbrac'd thy bow.
I feel diviner fires my breast inflame,
To active science, and ingenuous fame;
Resume the paths my earliest choice began,
And lose, with pride, the lover in the man.

" - Mark Akenside
(1721-1770), English poet and physician.
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[Quote No.53423] Need Area: Friends > Love
"[Poem: about love and showing affection]

'Kisses'

Kisses kept are wasted;
Love is to be tasted.
There are some you love, I know;
Be not loathe to tell them so.
Lips go dry and eyes grow wet
Waiting to be warmly met.
Keep them not in waiting yet;
Kisses kept are wasted.

" - Edmund Vance Cooke

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[Quote No.53425] Need Area: Friends > Love
"[Poem: about love that has ended]

'Miss You'

Miss you, miss you, miss you;
Everything I do
Echoes with the laughter
And the voice of You.
You're on every corner,
Every turn and twist,
Every old familiar spot
Whispers how you're missed.

Miss you, miss you, miss you!
Everywhere I go
There are poignant memories
Dancing in a row.
Silhouette and shadow
Of your form and face,
Substance and reality
Everywhere displace.

Oh, I miss you, miss you!
God! I miss you, Girl!
There's a strange, sad silence
'Mid the busy whirl,
Just as tho' the ordinary
Daily things I do
Wait with me, expectant
For a word from You.

Miss you, miss you, miss you!
Nothing now seems true
Only that 'twas heaven
Just to be with You.

" - David Cory
(1872-1966), American poet and author of children's stories.
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[Quote No.53430] Need Area: Friends > Love
"[Poem: about love and how pleasure ebbs and flows with their lover's arriving and departing]

'A Sonnet of the Moon'

Look how the pale queen of the silent night
Doth cause the ocean to attend upon her,
And he, as long as she is in his sight,
With her full tide is ready her to honor.
But when the silver waggon of the moon
Is mounted up so high he cannot follow,
The sea calls home his crystal waves to moan,
And with low ebb doth manifest his sorrow.
So you that are the sovereign of my heart
Have all my joys attending on your will;
My joys low-ebbing when you do depart,
When you return their tide my heart doth fill.
So as you come and as you do depart,
Joys ebb and flow within my tender heart.

" - Charles Best
(1570–1627) was an English poet.
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[Quote No.53447] Need Area: Friends > Love
"[Poem: about love and the first kiss]

'You Kissed Me'

You kissed me! My head drooped low on your breast
With a feeling of shelter and infinite rest,
While the holy emotions my tongue dared not speak,
Flashed up as in flame, from my heart to my cheek;
Your arms held me fast; oh! your arms were so bold -
Heart beat against heart in their passionate fold.
Your glances seemed drawing my soul through mine eyes,
As the sun draws the mist from the sea to the skies.
Your lips clung to mine till I prayed in my bliss
They might never unclasp from the rapturous kiss.
You kissed me! My heart, my breath and my will
In delirious joy from a moment stood still.
Life had for me then no temptations, no charms,
No visions of rapture outside of your arms;
And were I this instant an angel possessed
Of the peace and the joy that belong to the blest,
I would fling my white robes unrepiningly down,
I would tear from my forehead its beautiful crown,
To nestle once more in that haven of rest -
Your lips upon mine, my head on your breast.

You kissed me: My soul in a bliss so divine
Reeled and swooned like a drunkard when foolish with wine,
And I thought 'twere delicious to die there, if death
Would but come while my lips were yet moist with your breath;
While your arms clasped me round in that blissful embrace,
While your eyes melt in mine could e'en death e'er efface -
Oh, these are the questions I ask day and night:
Must my lips taste no more such exquisite delight?
Would you wish that your breast were my shelter as then?
And if you were here, would you kiss me again?

" - Josephine Slocum Hunt

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[Quote No.53487] Need Area: Friends > Love
"[Poem: about lost love, after love ends]

'Kashmiri Song'

Pale hands I love beside the Shalimar,
Where are you now? Who lies beneath your spell?
Whom do you lead on Rapture's Roadway, far,
Before you agonize them in farewell?

Oh, pale dispensers of my Joys and Pains,
Holding the doors of Heaven and of Hell,
How the hot blood rushed wildly through the veins
Beneath your touch, until you waved farewell.

Pale hands, pink-tipped, like Lotus buds that float
On those cool waters where we used to dwell,
I would have rather felt you round my throat
Crushing out life than waving me farewell!

" - Adela Florence Cory Nicolson
(1865 – 1904), Adela Florence Nicolson (née Cory) was an English poet who wrote under the pseudonym Laurence Hope.
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[Quote No.53509] Need Area: Friends > Love
"Don't fall in love with someone who says the right things, fall in love with someone who [also] does the right things." - Robert Tew
Chairman at Newcastle Knights Limited since April 11, 2011 and its Director since April 2008.
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[Quote No.53522] Need Area: Friends > Love
"[Poem: about breaking up]

'Admonition'

No, I am through and you can call in vain.
There is too great a fee for your caress;
Too great a share of heartbreak and of pain
And all the kindred hurts of loneliness.
What does it mean at best? A fevered hour
When I forget that you are not for me;
Your charm aglow like some exotic flower
To rouse again the waves of memory.

No, I am through -- the trumpet call of youth
Must sound in vain -- for I have need of rest;
You have no peace to give -- no certain truth --
And I am sick and weary of my quest.

Leave me to books and wine and memories --
Nothing you have to give can equal these!

" - Philip Stack

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[Quote No.53552] Need Area: Friends > Love
"[Poem: about love]

'Quiet Waters'

Our lives float on quiet waters . . .
Down softly flowing streams,
Where silvery willows
Shadow calm waves.
Gentle bird-songs
And murmuring freshets
Leap from the woodland
In snowy circlets.
Green embowers us,
and fragrant mosses,
Spicy odors
That drift in the languid
Swaying breezes . . .

Our lives float on quiet waters . . .
And my Love and I
Wonder at twilight,
When flaming banners
Spread in the heavens,
How long this Beauty -
This stately silence . . .
e'er once again we shall drift
On the turbulent, open sea.

" - Blanche Shoemaker Wagstaff
(1888 - 1959) American poet. Born in Manhattan, she spent much of her life in New York City. She began writing at age 7, and had sold her first poem, to 'Town and Country', by age 16. She served for a time as the associate editor of the 'International Magazine'. Her verse, which often dealt with sensual and classical themes, was anthologized in T.R. Smith's 1921 erotic verse collection 'Poetica Erotica'.
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[Quote No.53554] Need Area: Friends > Love
"[Poem: about love, especially a kiss]

From 'The Book Of Love'

I see you coming toward me....
Silently you take me in your arms.
Our lips meet and our eyes close.
I feel the shuddering of your breast and the beating of your throat against mine.
We are enveloped in darkness.
We know nothing but the thunder of our veins....
We are swept out into a sea of infinite oblivion.

" - Blanche Shoemaker Wagstaff
(1888 - 1959) American poet. Born in Manhattan, she spent much of her life in New York City. She began writing at age 7, and had sold her first poem, to 'Town and Country', by age 16. She served for a time as the associate editor of the 'International Magazine'. Her verse, which often dealt with sensual and classical themes, was anthologized in T.R. Smith's 1921 erotic verse collection 'Poetica Erotica'. 'The Book of Love' was published in 1917.
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[Quote No.53556] Need Area: Friends > Love
"[Poem: about love]

'I Walk Alone'

I walk alone and cry out under the stars;
As one in a desert I hunger for refreshment.
I have need of the coolness of some azure pool,
Oh, I would anoint my bosom with the clear water!
Oh, I would immerse myself in the emulous depths!
Oh, I would drink of ineffable dreams.
You, Beloved, are the silvery lake shimmering in the desert of my youth.
You only can allay the fever of my spirit!
On your lips I should drain the fountain of life.
On your white breast I shall breathe the perfume of numberless lilies.
Therein I shall die a thousand deaths and arise reborn in the awful splendor of your love....

" - Blanche Shoemaker Wagstaff
(1888 - 1959) American poet. Born in Manhattan, she spent much of her life in New York City. She began writing at age 7, and had sold her first poem, to 'Town and Country', by age 16. She served for a time as the associate editor of the 'International Magazine'. Her verse, which often dealt with sensual and classical themes, was anthologized in T.R. Smith's 1921 erotic verse collection 'Poetica Erotica'.
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[Quote No.53691] Need Area: Friends > Love
"Grumbling is the death of love!" - Marlene Dietrich
(1901 - 1992)
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[Quote No.53750] Need Area: Friends > Love
"Love is the wild card of existence." - Rita Mae Brown

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[Quote No.53813] Need Area: Friends > Love
"Love is three quarters curiosity." - Giacomo Casanova

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[Quote No.54090] Need Area: Friends > Love
"Love is a verb." - Clare Boothe Luce

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[Quote No.54188] Need Area: Friends > Love
"One of my theories is that men love with their eyes; women love with their ears." - Zsa-zsa Gabor
Actress
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[Quote No.54258] Need Area: Friends > Love
"[A story - with a message about deserving love by caring for another's welfare more than your own:] 'Letting Go' There was once a lonely girl who longed desperately for love. One day while she was walking in the woods she found two starving songbirds. She took them home and put them in a small glided cage. She nurtured them with love and the birds grew strong. Every morning they greeted her with a marvellous song. The girl felt great love for the birds. She wanted their singing to last forever. One day the girl left the door to the cage open. The larger and stronger of the two birds flew from the cage. The girl watched anxiously as he circled high above her. She was so frightened that he would fly away and she would never see him again that as he flew close, she grasped at him wildly. She caught him in her fist. She clutched him tightly within her hand. Her heart gladdened at her success in capturing him. Suddenly she felt the bird go limp. She opened her hand stared in horror at the dead bird. Her desperate clutching love had killed him. She noticed the other bird teetering on the edge of the cage. She could feel his great need for freedom, his need to soar into the clear, blue sky. She lifted him from the cage and tossed him softly into the air. The bird circled once, twice, three times. The girl watched delighted at the bird's enjoyment. Her heart was no longer concerned with her loss. She wanted the bird to be happy. Suddenly the bird flew closer and landed softly on her shoulder. It sang the sweetest melody, she had ever heard. The fastest way to lose love is to hold on too tight, the best way to keep love is to give it -- WINGS! " - Unknown

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[Quote No.54503] Need Area: Friends > Love
"I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you." - Elizabeth Barrett Browning
(1806 - 1861)
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[Quote No.54507] Need Area: Friends > Love
"There can be no passion, and by consequence no love, where there is not imagination." - William Godwin
(1756 - 1836)
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[Quote No.54560] Need Area: Friends > Love
"[Love is a state that closely resembles that of drug addiction in terms of what happens in the brain during it, or in other words, drug addiction can be conceived as a perversion of the natural neurochemistry evolved for pair-bonding, reproduction and parenting:] Love-besotted men and women show all the basic symptoms of addiction. Foremost, the lover is stiletto-focused on his/her drug of choice, the love object. The lover thinks obsessively about him or her (intrusive thinking), and often compulsively calls, writes, or stays in touch. Paramount in this experience is intense motivation to win one’s sweetheart, not unlike the substance abuser fixated on the drug. Impassioned lovers distort reality, change their priorities and daily habits to accommodate the beloved, experience personality changes (affect disturbance), and sometimes do inappropriate or risky things to impress this special other. Many are willing to sacrifice, even die for, ‘him’ or ‘her.’ The lover craves emotional and physical union with the beloved (dependence). And like addicts who suffer when they can’t get their drug, the lover suffers when apart from the beloved (separation anxiety). Adversity and social barriers even heighten this longing (frustration attraction). In fact, besotted lovers express all four of the basic traits of addiction: craving, tolerance, withdrawal, and relapse. They feel a ‘rush’ of exhilaration when they’re with their beloved (intoxication). As their tolerance builds, they seek to interact with the beloved more and more (intensification). If the love object breaks off the relationship, the lover experiences signs of drug withdrawal, including protest, crying spells, lethargy, anxiety, insomnia or hypersomnia, loss of appetite or binge eating, irritability, and loneliness. Lovers, like addicts, also often go to extremes, sometimes doing degrading or physically dangerous things to win back the beloved. And lovers relapse the way drug addicts do. Long after the relationship is over, events, people, places, songs, or other external cues associated with their abandoning sweetheart can trigger memories and renewed craving. [fMRI studies have shown intense romantic love to trigger the brain's neurochemical reward system and the dopamine pathways responsible for ‘energy, focus, motivation, ecstasy, despair, and craving,’ as well as the brain regions most closely associated with addiction and substance abuse. It has been proposed that there are three key components of love and they involve different but connected brain systems: --- Lust — driven by androgens and estrogens, the craving for sexual gratification --- Attraction — driven by high dopamine and norepinephrine levels and low serotonin, romantic or passionate love, characterized by euphoria when things are going well, terrible mood swings when they’re not, focused attention, obsessive thinking, and intense craving for the individual --- Attachment — driven by the hormones oxytocin and vasopressin, (released with orgasms as well as at other times) the sense of calm, peace, and stability one feels with a long-term partner]" - Helen Fisher
Biological anthropologist, who studies the brain on love. She has written two books, 'Anatomy of Love' and 'Why We Love'.
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[Quote No.54719] Need Area: Friends > Love
"Never love anybody who treats you like you’re ordinary." - Oscar Wilde

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[Quote No.54852] Need Area: Friends > Love
"There are many more people trying to meet the right person than to become the right person." - Gloria Steinem

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[Quote No.54892] Need Area: Friends > Love
"[Poem: about love]

O innocent victims of Cupid,
Remember this terse little verse:
To let a fool kiss you is stupid,
To let a kiss fool you is worse.

" - Yip Harburg
(1896-1981), lyricist
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[Quote No.55012] Need Area: Friends > Love
"Love is the most beautiful of dreams and the worst of nightmares." - William Shakespeare
(1564 - 1616)
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[Quote No.55213] Need Area: Friends > Love
"Love starts when we push aside our ego and make room for someone else." - Rudolf Steiner

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[Quote No.55365] Need Area: Friends > Love
"At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet." - Plato

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[Quote No.55402] Need Area: Friends > Love
"Here's What Breaking Up Does to Your Brain: When the love of your life dumps you, you’re going to go a little nuts. But it’s a very specific form of crazy: There are actually conflicting neural systems active inside your brain. It’s like you’re falling in love all over again, only in reverse. Here’s how neuroscience explains it. ----- Addicted to Love: It doesn’t matter whether you were with your ex-lover for six months, four years, or more - a breakup throws your brain back into the obsession of early love. Everything that reminds you of that person - a photograph, places you used to go together, random thoughts - triggers activity in ‘reward’ neurons inside the caudate nucleus and the ventral tegmental area of the brain. These are the same parts of the brain that light up when scientists put people in the throes of that grossly cute can’t-think-about-anything-else stage of new love into an fMRI machine and ask them to look at photos of their beloved. As it happens, they’re also parts of the brain that respond to cocaine and nicotine. Turning on the reward neurons releases repeated floods of the neurotransmitter dopamine. And the dopamine activates circuits inside the brain that create a craving for more. That craving gives you motivation, and encourages you to try out other behaviors that will help you get more of whatever it is you need. In the case of romance, the thing you need more of is your beloved. As a romantic relationship develops into a long term partnership, that obsession fades away, even though thoughts of your partner still tickle the brain’s reward systems. But after a breakup, all those old can’t-get-enough feelings come flooding back. The brain’s reward systems are still expecting their romantic ‘fix’, but they’re not getting the responses they expect. And like someone in the depths of a drug addiction, they turn up the volume in an effort to get you to respond. In this new context, the reward system is now the part of your brain that’s going to motivate you do something really dumb. Like drunk calling your ex, or initiating breakup sex. Lucy Brown, a neuroscientist at Einstein College of Medicine who has studied romantic responses in the brain, explains that the motivation is more extreme than for other forms of social rejection because romance ties into more primal parts of the brain. ‘Other kinds of social rejection are much more cognitive,’ she says. ‘[Romantic rejection] is a life changing thing, and involves systems that are at the same level as feeling hungry or thirsty.’ No wonder it hurts. ----- The Pain is Real: When your lover leaves you, chances are you’re going to feel it. Your chest gets tight, you feel sick to your stomach, or maybe there’s that sinking sensation that accompanies terrible news. Two studies that looked at brain activity inside people who were deep in the throes of a breakup found that the reward regions weren’t the only systems lit up inside their brains. They also saw activity in brain regions that control distress and the response to physical pain. Specifically, the parts of the brain that collect pain sensations from the outside world were quiet, but the systems they tie to-the systems that control how the body reacts to pain-were busy telling the body that something awful was happening. And since the brain controls the body, turning on those systems can trigger a cascade of effects: for example, releasing stress hormones which in turn affect the heart, the digestive system, even the immune system. In some extreme cases, the stress can make the heart weaken and bulge, creating a condition called takotsubo cardiomyopathy or ‘broken heart syndrome,’ which can sometimes lead to death. Fortunately, those sorts of extreme stress responses are rare. But the pain of a romantic rejection can still last a long time. There’s a lot of variation from one person to the next, but Brown says the painful feelings usually fade away over the course of about six months to two years. But the pain is a natural part of the process. Breakups hurt because they turn on a basic system that gets us to make and maintain meaningful connections with other people. ‘It’s a system to try to keep us together’, Brown explains. ‘When we have little separations, these feelings get us to work hard to get close to the person again. If two people are cooperating, it works.’ When they’re not, it’s as much of a hurt as a cut or a broken bone. ----- What Were They Thinking? And What Can You Do? So far, all the ‘breakup fMRI’ experiments have looked at brain activity in dump-ees. Like you, science still has no idea what’s going on in the brain of a dump-er. Logic suggests there must be some mechanism that can slowly erode and weaken connections in the brain’s attachment pathways. We do know that neural connections that aren’t used in sensory pathways can get pruned away, so perhaps this type of neural rewriting can also slowly change the way your lover feels about you until one day, those warm feelings of romantic attachment are gone. And then comes that ‘We have to talk’ visit. But when you’re heartbroken, there’s no reason that you can’t try things that encourage your brain to rewire itself. In fact, there’s evidence that immediately after a breakup your brain is working hard to get you to move on. Those same brain scans of the heartbroken that showed their brains were awash in pain and desire also had activity in regions of the frontal cortex that inhibit impulses and redirect behavior. In short, explains Brown, your brain is trying to regulate your mixed-up emotions, prevent you from doing at least some of the crazy things you feel compelled to try, and help you start putting your life back together. It will take time to get over it. But over time, the brain activity of romantic obsession will go away. Until then, Brown suggests trying a little memory rewriting of your own. ‘When the thought of that person comes up, instead of thinking how great [the relationship] was, think about how bad that person was for you instead.’ " - Diane Kelly
20th July, 2015. [http://throb.gizmodo.com/heres-what-breaking-up-does-to-your-brain-1717776450 ]
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[Quote No.55504] Need Area: Friends > Love
"People who throw kisses are hopelessly lazy." - Bob Hope

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[Quote No.55518] Need Area: Friends > Love
"How was I able to live alone before, my little everything? Without you I lack self-confidence, passion for work, and enjoyment of life - in short, without you, my life is no life." - Albert Einstein
Quote from one of his letters in the book, 'Albert Einstein / Mileva Maric: The Love Letters' — a collection of fifty-four missives exchanged between the beginning of their romance in 1897 and their marriage in 1903. They had met when Albert was seventeen and Mileva twenty-one. They were married for 11 years, together for 18 years and had one son. [http://www.brainpickings.org/2015/07/27/albert-einstein-mileva-maric-love-letters/ ]
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[Quote No.55523] Need Area: Friends > Love
"Trust is the first step to love." - Munshi Premchand
(1880-1936), novelist and poet.
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[Quote No.55616] Need Area: Friends > Love
"Life without you is like a pencil without lead ....... POINTLESS!" - Unknown

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[Quote No.55756] Need Area: Friends > Love
"There are several kinds of love. One is a selfish, mean, grasping, egotistical thing which uses love for self-importance. This is the ugly and crippling kind. The other is an outpouring of everything good in you - of kindness and consideration and respect - not only the social respect of manners but the greater respect which is recognition of another person as unique and valuable. The first kind can make you sick and small and weak but the second can release in you strength, and courage and goodness and even wisdom you didn't know you had." - John Steinbeck
Nobel laureate. Quote from a letter in the book, 'Steinbeck: A Life in Letters'.
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[Quote No.55959] Need Area: Friends > Love
"Who, being loved [and 'in love'], is poor?" - Oscar Wilde
(1854-1900), writer.
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[Quote No.56161] Need Area: Friends > Love
"Love is the ability and willingness to allow those that you care for to be what they choose for themselves without any insistence that they satisfy you." - Wayne W. Dyer

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[Quote No.56252] Need Area: Friends > Love
"You know it is love when all you want is that person to be happy, even if you're not part of their happiness." - Julia Roberts

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[Quote No.56253] Need Area: Friends > Love
"Love cures people - both the ones who give it and the ones who receive it." - Dr Karl Menninger

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[Quote No.56255] Need Area: Friends > Love
"A loving relationship is one in which the loved one is free to be himself -- to laugh with me, but never at me; to cry with me, but never because of me; to love life, to love himself, to love being loved. Such a relationship is based upon freedom and can never grow in a jealous heart." - Leo Buscaglia

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[Quote No.56529] Need Area: Friends > Love
"[Love, like a natural drug, can be addictive:] ...I sought what I might love, in love with loving. " - Augustine of Hippo
In his early forties, Augustine of Hippo (born November 13, 354 AD) looked back on his self-proclaimed sinful youth and wrote a book about it. His 'Confessions' is widely believed to be the first Western autobiography ever written.
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[Quote No.56728] Need Area: Friends > Love
"I could sense the bliss that springs from love when one loves with total conviction and knows one's love to be reciprocated. " - Gustav Mahler
(1860–1911), Austrian late-Romantic composer, in a love letter to his wife.
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