Sweetest love, I do not go, For weariness of thee, Nor in hope the world can show A fitter love for me; But since that I Must die at last, 'tis best, To use my self in jest Thus by feign'd deaths to die.
Who ever loves, if he do not propose The right true end of love, he's one that goes To sea for nothing but to make him sick.
I do not love a man, except I hate his vices, because those vices are the enemies, and the destruction of that friend whom I love.
I long to talk with some old lover's ghost, Who died before the god of love was born.
Love's mysteries in souls do grow, But yet the body is his book.
But he who loveliness within Hath found, all outward loathes, For he who color loves, and skin, Loves but their oldest clothes.
Tis true, 'tis day; what though it be? O wilt thou therefore rise from me? Why should we rise, because 'tis light? Did we lie down, because 'twas night? Love which in spite of darkness brought us hither Should in despite of light keep us together.
I think love and beauty are what life is all about.
I love these movies where it's just about the film. You don't have my face on the poster. It's all about the movie. I like that.
It seems to me that one thing people do over and over again is try to figure out how to get married, stay married, fall in love, how to rekindle all this stuff. It seems to me to be a pretty eternal theme so I don't know if you can get typecast from making movies about men relating to women. It seems to be what is going on on the planet a lot.
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