Love is the poetry of the senses. Love is a game that two can play and both win. The heart is a small thing,but desires great matters. It is not sufficient for a Kite’s dinner, yet the whole world is not sufficient for it. Love is like those second-rate hotels all the luxury is in the lobby.
We don’t believe in rheumatism and true love until after the first attack. All love is probationary,a fact which frightens women and exhilarates men.True love is like a ghosts, which everyone talks about and few have seen. Some women love only what they can hold in their arms;other,only what they can’t love, and a cough,cannot be hid.
Desire creates havoc when it is the only thing between two people, or when it is what’s missing. Poetry spills from the cracks of a broken heart,but Floe’s from one which is loved. A man is not where he lives,but where he loves. Love here on earth is love beyond the grave. There are no roads my love for you can’t pave.The arms of love encompass you with your present, your past,your future, the arms of love gather you together. I need the star shine of your heavenly eyes, after the days great sun. A lover is a man who tries to be more amiable than it is possible for him to be. Love is not consolidation. It is light, true love comes quietly, without banner’s or flashing lights if you hear bells, get your ear’s checked. Love in action is a harsh and dreadful thing compared with love in dreams. True love is a discipline in which each divines the secret self of the other and refuses to believe in the mere daily self. Mumps, measles, and puppy love are terrible after twenty. You can give without loving, but you can never love without giving. Love is being stupid together.
In this horror of solitude, this need to lose his ego in exterior flesh,which men call’s grandly the need of love. Open your heart and take us in,love love and me. Love does not care to define and is never in a hurry to do so. What “LOVE” is I don’t know if it’s not the response of our deepest natures to one another. When I gave my heart to you, it passed into thy lifelong regency. The heart has its reasons that reason knows nothing of. At the touch of love,everyone becomes a poet. As soon go kindle fire with snow,as seek to quench the fire of love with words. I’m a piano of love using my lovely finger tips to caress the white teeth and black gum of the piano to play the lyrics of love do stay connected to love.

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