A man reserves his true and deepest love not for the species of woman in whose company he finds himself electrified and enkindled, but for that one in whose company he may feel tenderly drowsy


We cannot really love anybody with whom we never laugh



A woman has got to love a bad man once or twice in her life to be thankful for a good one.


Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of withering, of tarnishing.
A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous.

There is no disguise which can hide love for long where it exists, or simulate it where it does not

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