Love…
…does not make reservations or knock on one’s door to signal its arrival. It appears suddenly and unexpectedly. Love comes when it does; no sooner; no later. Love is solely its own master.
From “Lasting Love…” by psychologist and writer Gay Hendricks
Genuine
love
is
between
two
people
who
know
they
are
already
complete.
Love…
…is never constant. It ebbs and flows between crescendo and diminishment. Every story of the heart has its moments of greatest love and those that contain the least amount. It is between the extremes where meaning is found.
English writer, painter and freedom fighter D. H. Lawrence
Love is
the flower of life,
and blossoms
unexpectedly
and without law,
and must be plucked
where it is found,
and enjoyed
for the brief hour
of its duration.
Love…
…comes in a less complicated manner as I become wiser with age. Love has not changed. It is the receiver (me) that is different. My thinking is simpler, my heart more open and my spirit less guarded.
Verse from an old greeting card by Helen Steiner Rice
I’d like to be a rain drop
Just Falling on your hand,
I’d like to be a blade of grass
On which you dear feet stand,
I’d like to be your shadow
As it moves around all day,
I’d like to be most anything
That hangs around your way.
Love…
…pours adrenaline into the blood, increases blood pressure and accelerates the heart. It moves mind and spirit until all are playing in a spontaneous symphony in near perfect pitch.
Scottish historical novelist and dramatic writer Jane Porter
Happiness is a sunbeam
which may pass through
a thousand bosoms
without losing a particle
of its original ray;
nay, when it strikes
on a kindred heart,
like the converged light
on a mirror,
it reflects itself
with redoubled brightness.
It is not perfected till it is shared.
Love…
…arrives with a sound only those loving can hear, but to them it is a roar so deafening all senses are effected. Sight is more alert, smell more acute, taste is broader and sense of touch is amplified. It is like being made-over, yet with the redo not being readily visible.
From the small book “Meet Me Halfway” by Javan
You have come
into my life
Through a door
I was afraid
Would never
be open again
For many
have slammed it
on their
way out.
Love…
…requires only a small degree of hope to begin. Without at least a little hope love becomes a small thing we plan on having sometime, somewhere that never has a chance to take root and prosper.
Irish novelist and short story writer Elizabeth Bowen
When you
love
someone,
all your
saved-up
wishes
start
coming
out.
Love…
…bridges gaps, fills crevices and lights the unknown. It allows a person known only for days to feel like an old friend and one known for years to seem like they have always been there at your side.
Irish novelist and poet James Joyce
His heart danced
upon her movements
like a cork upon a tide.
He heard what
her eyes said
to him from beneath
their cowl
and knew that
in some dim past,
whether in life
or revery, he had heard
their tale before.
Love…
…is a simple feeling with a most difficult explanation. It’s like you can’t stand to be without that person, you think of them first thing in the morning and they are your last thought for the night. You can feel love but never grasp its meaning in any one moment.
American author and humorist Mark Twain
When
you
fish
for
love,
bait
with
your
heart,
not
your
brain.
Love…
…the first time is like nothing else. Love the last time is beyond even that. First love arrives in youth when it is hoped for and even expected. Love the last time comes unexpectedly after one has lost hope of it ever appearing again.
Theoretical physicist and philosopher Albert Einstein
How on earth
are you ever
going to explain
in terms of
chemistry
and physics
so important
a biological
phenomenon
as first love?
Love…
…can make someone you met only days ago feel familiar beyond explanation. It feels as if you fell in love with the person long before you met them, but did not know it yet.
Taken from “New Love” by Matthew Baldwin
From the first
lingering glance
Shared by a pair
of prying hearts
To the last
dizzying dance
Performed by two sets
of intricate
intimate
parts
I knew you.
Love Letter Daily 