Relationships and Family

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;

 

A man travels the world in search of what he needs and returns home to find it.

 

The King found her so different from her picture … that … he swore they had brought him a Flanders mare.

 

Plaisir d’amour ne dure qu’un moment,

 

Atque in perpetuum, frater, ave atque vale.

 

Odi et amo: quare id faciam, fortasse requiris.

 

Odi et amo: quare id faciam, fortasse requiris.

 

Da mi basia mille.

 

Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus.

 

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

 

Every time a child says ‘I don’t believe in fairies’ there is a little fairy somewhere that falls down dead.

 

Well, my daddy left home when I was three, And didn’t leave much to Ma and me, Just this old guitar and an empty bottle of booze. Now I don’t blame him because he run and hid, But the meanest thing he ever did was Before he left, he went and named me Sue.

 

I am the son of the first fish who climbed ashore but the news has not yet reached my bowels.

 

O vocables of love, The end of an end is an echo, A last cry follows a last cry. Finality of finality Is perfection’s touch of folly.

 

But, friend, to me He is all fault who hath no fault at all. For who loves me must have a touch of earth.

 

It is the little rift within the lute, That by and by will make the music mute, And ever widening slowly silence all.

 

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.

 

Love is and was my lord and king.

 

He seems so near, and yet so far.

 

’Tis better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved at all. 3

 

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.

 

Ask me no more: thy fate and mine are seal’d: I strove against the stream and all in vain: Let the great river take me to the main: No more, dear love, for at a touch I yield; Ask me no more.