And all people live, Not by reason of any care they have for themselves, But by the love for them that is in other people.
And all people live, Not by reason of any care they have for themselves, But by the love for them that is in other people.
I don’t call you handsome, sir, though I love you most dearly: far too dearly to flatter you. Don’t flatter me.
He who lives in our mind is near though he may actually be far away; but he who is not in our heart is far though he may really be nearby.
But, on the other hand, I get bored with racism too and recognize that there are still many things to be said about a Black person and a White person loving each other in a racist society.
I’m a romantic; a sentimental person thinks things will last, a romantic person hopes against hope that they won’t.
A woman one loves rarely suffices for all our needs, so we deceive her with another whom we do not love.
Acceptance is not love. You love a person because he or she has lovable traits, but you accept everybody just because they’re alive and human.
Love has features which pierce all hearts, he wears a bandage which conceals the faults of those beloved. He has wings, he comes quickly and flies away the same.
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