Relationships and Family

Women wish to be loved without a why or a wherefore; not because they are pretty, or good, or well-bred, or graceful, or intelligent, but because they are themselves.

If women didn't exist, all the money in the world would have no meaning .

No one worth possessing can be quite possessed.

And what’s romance? Usually, a nice little tale where you have everything As You Like It, where rain never wets your jacket and gnats never bite your nose and it’s always daisy-time.

Anger is the fluid that love bleeds when you cut it.

She is coming, my dove, my dear;

 

Seal with a righteous kiss

 

My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath:—a source of little visible delight, but necessary.

 

She is coming, my own, my sweet; Were it ever so airy a tread, My heart would hear her and beat, Were it earth in an earthy bed; My dust would hear her and beat, Had I lain for a century dead; Would start and tremble under her feet, And blossom in purple and red.

 

Come into the garden, Maud, For the black bat, night, has flown, Come into the garden, Maud, I am here at the gate alone.

 

Now lies the Earth all Danaë to the stars, And all thy heart lies open unto me.

 

Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white; Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk; Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font: The firefly wakens: waken thou with me.

 

He will hold thee, when his passion shall have spent its novel force, Something better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse.

 

There are three lessons I would write, Three words as with a burning pen, In tracings of eternal light Upon the hearts of men.

 

Harmony is pure love, for love is complete agreement.

Over this damp grave I speak the words of my love:

Je l’ai trop aimé pour ne le point haïr!

[ On being told at a party that people were ducking for apples :] There, but for a typographical error, is the story of my life.

I would indeed that love were longer-lived,

Love is the most fun you can have without laughing.

Love is a joint experience between two persons—but the fact that it is a joint experience does not mean that it is a similar experience to the two people involved. There are the lover and the beloved, but these two come from different countries. Often the beloved is only a stimulus for all the stored-up love which has lain quiet within the lover for a long time hitherto.

The tragedy of love is indifference.

[ Responding to a woman contestant who, explaining why she had twenty-two children, said “because I love children, and I think that’s our purpose here on earth, and I love my husband” :] I love my cigar too, but I take it out of my mouth once in a while.

My future husband was becoming to me my whole world; and more than the world: almost my hope of heaven. He stood between me and every thought of religion, as an eclipse intervenes between man and the broad sun. I could not, in those days, see God for His creature: of whom I had made an idol.