Life without love is like a tree without blossoms or fruit.
A man always remembers his first love with special tenderness, but after that he begins to bunch them.
Every man who has at last succeeded, after long effort, in calling up the divinity which lies hidden in a woman’s heart, is startled to find that he must obey the God he summoned.
I don’t have this fantasy about marriage anymore. Everyone says it takes hard work. Well, it kind of does – and I’m much more pragmatic about romance than I used to be.
Nature has made a pebble and a female. The lapidary makes the diamond, and the lover makes the woman.
So sweet love seemed that April morn. When first we kissed beside the thorn, So strangely sweet, it was not strange We thought that love could never change.
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