Literary imagination is an aesthetic object offered by a writer to a lover of books.
The old people came literally to love the soil and they sat or reclined on the ground with a feeling of being close to a mothering power. It was good for the skin to touch the earth and the old people liked to remove their moccasins and walk with bare feet on the sacred earth. Their tipis were built upon the earth and their altars were made of earth. The birds that flew into the air came to rest upon the earth and it was the final abiding place of all things that lived and grew. The soil was soothing, strengthening, cleansing and healing.
Come my Celia, let us prove, While we can, the sports of love Time will not be ours forever He at length our good will sever. Spend not then his gifts in vain; Suns that set may rise again, But if once we lose this light 'Tis with us perpetual night.
Love has no other desire but to fulfull itself. To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving.
A man is already halfway in love with a woman who listens to him.
The man or woman you really love will never grow old to you. Through the wrinkles of time, through the bowed frame of years, you will always see the dear face and feel the warm heart union of your eternal love.
I have often wondered how it is that every man loves himself more than all the rest of men, but yet sets less value on his own opinions of himself than on the opinions of others.
Love ceases to be a pleasure when it ceases to be a secret.
Charity means love towards the neighbor and compassion, for anyone who loves his neighbor as himself also has as much compassion for him in his suffering as he does for himself in his own.
Find someone to love ... and, oh, someone to love you.