Busy old fool, unruly Sun, why dost thou thus through windows and through curtains call on us? Must to thy motions lovers seasons run?
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These lovers cry, O ho they die! Yet that which seems the wound to kill...
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Swiftly arose and spread around me the peace and knowledge that pass all the argument of the earth, And I know that the hand of God is the promise of my own, And I know that the spirit of God is the brother of my own, And that all the men ever born are also my brothers, and the women my sisters and lovers, And that a kelson of the creation is love.
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Separated lovers cheat absence by a thousand fancies which have their own reality. They are prevented from seeing one another and they cannot write nevertheless they find countless mysterious ways of corresponding, by sending each other the song of birds, the scent of flowers, the laughter of children, the light of the sun, the sighing of the wind, and the gleam of the stars-all the beauties of creation.
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Mortal lovers must not try to remain at the first step for lasting passion is the dream of a harlot and from it we wake in despair.
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Though lovers be lost love shall not; And death shall have no dominion.
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All these places have their moments - with lovers and friends - I still can recall some are dead and some are living - in my life I've loved them all.
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lovers alone wear sunlight
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Both ardent lovers and austere scholars, when once they come to the years of discretion, love cats, so strong and gentle, the pride of the household, who like them are sensitive to the cold, and sedentary.
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Breathe deep the gathering gloom Watchlights fade from every room Bedsitter people look back and lament Another days useless energies spent Empassioned lovers wrestle as one Lonely man cries for love and has none New mother picks up and settles her son Senior citizens wish they were young Cold hearted orb that rules the night Removes the colors from our sight Red is gray and yellow white But we decide which is right And which is an illusion
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A mistress never is nor can be a friend. While you agree, you are lovers; and when it is over, anything but friends.
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Then amongst flowers and springs, Making delightful sport, Sat lovers without conflict, without flame;
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Lovers lying two and two Ask not whom they sleep beside, And the bridegroom all night through Never turns him to the bride.
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Journeys end in lovers meeting.
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Children show scars like medals. Lovers use them as secrets to reveal. A scar is what happens when the word is made flesh.
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May you live out your life Without hate, without grief...
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If, as I can't help suspecting, the dead also feel the pains of separation (and this may be one of their purgatorial sufferings), then for both lovers, and for all pairs of lovers without exception, bereavement is a universal and integral part of our experience of love.
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Husbands are chiefly good lovers when they are betraying their wives.
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The more familiar two people become, the more the language they speak together departs from that of the ordinary, dictionary-defined discourse. Familiarity creates a new language, an in-house language of intimacy that carries reference to the story the two lovers are weaving together and that cannot be readily understood by others.
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The sea rises, the light fails, lovers cling to each other, and children cling to us. The moment we cease to hold each other, the moment we break faith with one another, the sea engulfs us and the light goes out.
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Just as petals fall from drying garlands, which you can see aimlessly swimming in wine-bowls are we lovers, who now puff up our chests, but pe...
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...they no longer felt like newlyweds, and even less like belated lovers. It was as if they had lept over the arduous calvary of conjugal life and gone straight to the heart of love. They were together in silence like an old married couple wary of life, beyond the pitfalls of passion, beyond the brutal mockery of hope and the phantoms of disillusion: beyond love. For they had lived together long enough to know that love was always love, anytime and anyplace, but it was more solid the closer it came to death.
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It is amusing to discover, in the twentieth century, that the quarrels between two lovers, two mathematicians, two nations, two economic systems, usually assumed insoluble in a finite period should exhibit one mechanism, the semantic mechanism of identification -- the discovery of which makes universal agreement possible, in mathematics and in life.
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Faults are beauties in a lovers eye.
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'Zoologists and others from the scientific industry, plus so-called 'animal lovers' are trying to breed rare species of animals back from the brink of extinction. This means a lot of genetic and medical manipulation, to say nothing of snatching them from their own families and habitats, and keeping them in captivity for exploitation. Any nearly extinct species which makes a 'comeback' in population, will become accessible and disposable and they will be hunted back into low population again. Spaying or neutering is more sensible than breeding... and this goes for everyone, people too!'
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For nothing is fixed, forever and forever and forever, it is not fixed; the earth is always shifting, the light is always changing, the sea does not cease to grind down rock. Generations do not cease to be born, and we are responsible to them because we are the only witnesses they have. The sea rises, the light fails, lovers cling to each other, and children cling to us. The moment we cease to hold each other, the sea engulfs us and the light goes out.
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The major difference between hating and loving perhaps that is whereas to love somebody is to be fulfilled and enriched by the experience, to hate somebody is to be diminished and drained by it. Lovers, by losing themselves in their loving, find themselves, become themselves. Haters simply lose themselves. Theirs is the ultimate 'consuming' passion.
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Lovers embrace that which is between them rather than each other
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But love is blind and lovers cannot see
The pretty follies that themselves commit;
For if they could, Cupid himself would blush
To see me thus transformed to a boy.
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Well, you're either lovers or you're wanting to be lovers or you're trying not to be lovers so you can be friends, but any way you look at it, sex is always looming in the picture like a shadow, like an undertow.
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