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<blockquote data-quote="neroshan" data-source="post: 1436711" data-attributes="member: 8568"><p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-size: 15px"><strong><span style="color: Blue">__ L * O * V * E__</span></strong></span></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">You say that love is nonsense....I tell you it is no such thing. </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">For weeks and months it is a steady physical pain, an ache about the heart, </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">never leaving one, by night or by day; a long strain on one's </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">nerves like toothache or rheumatism, not intolerable at any one instant, </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">but exhausting by its steady drain on the strength.</span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">* Henry Adams*</span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">Among those whom I like or admire, I can find no common denominator, </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">but among those whom I love, I can: all of them make laugh.</span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">* W. H. Auden*</span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">Sympathy constitutes friendship; but in love there is a sort of antipathy, </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">or opposing passion. Each strives to be the other, </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">and both together make up one whole.</span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">* Samuel Taylor Coleridge*</span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">When love beckons to you follow him,</span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">Though his ways are hard and steep.</span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">And when his wings enfold you yield to him,</span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">Though the sword hidden among his pinions </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">May wound you.</span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">And when he speaks to you believe in him,</span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">Though his voice may shatter your dreams</span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">As the north wind lays waste the garden.</span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">For even as love crowns you</span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">so shall he crucify you.</span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">Even as he is for your growth </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">So is he for your pruning.</span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">The Prophet by Gibran Khalil Gibran</span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">Love, with very young people, is a heartless business. </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">We drink at that age from thirst, or to get drunk; </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">it is only later in life that we occupy ourselves with the </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">individuality of our wine.</span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">* Isak Dinesen*</span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">Love must not touch the marrow of the soul.</span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">Our affections must be breakable chains that we</span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">can cast them off or tighten them.</span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">* Euripedes* </span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">Today I begin to understand what love must be, if it exists... </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">When we are parted, we each feel the lack of the </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">other half of ourselves. We are incomplete like a book in </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">two volumes of which the first has been lost. </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">That is what I imagine love to be: incompleteness </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">in absence </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">* Preeti Bansal* </span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">No matter what you've done for yourself or for humanity, </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">if you can't look back on having given love and attention to </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">your own family, what have you really accomplished?</span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">* Lee Iacocca*</span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">This was love at first sight, love everlasting: a feeling unknown, </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">unhoped for, unexpected--in so far as it could be a matter of </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">conscious awareness; it took entire possession of him, </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">and he understood, with joyous amazement, </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">that this was for life.</span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">* Thomas Mann*</span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">A man reserves his true and deepest love not for the species </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">of woman in whose company he finds himself electrified and enkindled, </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">but for that one in whose company he may feel tenderly drowsy.</span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">* George Jean Nathan*</span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">We conceal it from ourselves in vain--we must always love something. </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">In those matters seemingly removed from love, the feeling is </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">secretly to be found, and man cannot possibly </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">live for a moment without it.</span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">* Blaise Pascal*</span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">Love is something far more than desire for sexual intercourse; </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">it is the principal means of escape from the loneliness </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">which afflicts most men and women throughout </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">the greater part of their lives.</span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">* Bertrand Russell*</span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">Love has features which pierce all hearts, he wears a bandage </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">which conceals the faults of those beloved. He has wings, </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">he comes quickly and flies away the same.</span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">* Voltaire*</span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">Love is always bestowed as a gift - freely, willingly and </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">without expectation. We don't love to be loved; we love to love.</span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">*Leo Buscaglia*</span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p> <strong><span style="color: Blue"></span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">Sometimes it's a form of love just to talk to somebody that you </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">have nothing in common with and still be fascinated by their presence. </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: Blue">*David Byrne*</span></strong></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="neroshan, post: 1436711, member: 8568"] [CENTER][SIZE="4"][B][COLOR="Blue"]__ L * O * V * E__[/COLOR][/B][/SIZE][B][COLOR="Blue"][/color][/b][/CENTER][B][COLOR="Blue"] You say that love is nonsense....I tell you it is no such thing. For weeks and months it is a steady physical pain, an ache about the heart, never leaving one, by night or by day; a long strain on one's nerves like toothache or rheumatism, not intolerable at any one instant, but exhausting by its steady drain on the strength. * Henry Adams* Among those whom I like or admire, I can find no common denominator, but among those whom I love, I can: all of them make laugh. * W. H. Auden* Sympathy constitutes friendship; but in love there is a sort of antipathy, or opposing passion. Each strives to be the other, and both together make up one whole. * Samuel Taylor Coleridge* When love beckons to you follow him, Though his ways are hard and steep. And when his wings enfold you yield to him, Though the sword hidden among his pinions May wound you. And when he speaks to you believe in him, Though his voice may shatter your dreams As the north wind lays waste the garden. For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth So is he for your pruning. The Prophet by Gibran Khalil Gibran Love, with very young people, is a heartless business. We drink at that age from thirst, or to get drunk; it is only later in life that we occupy ourselves with the individuality of our wine. * Isak Dinesen* Love must not touch the marrow of the soul. Our affections must be breakable chains that we can cast them off or tighten them. * Euripedes* Today I begin to understand what love must be, if it exists... When we are parted, we each feel the lack of the other half of ourselves. We are incomplete like a book in two volumes of which the first has been lost. That is what I imagine love to be: incompleteness in absence * Preeti Bansal* No matter what you've done for yourself or for humanity, if you can't look back on having given love and attention to your own family, what have you really accomplished? * Lee Iacocca* This was love at first sight, love everlasting: a feeling unknown, unhoped for, unexpected--in so far as it could be a matter of conscious awareness; it took entire possession of him, and he understood, with joyous amazement, that this was for life. * Thomas Mann* A man reserves his true and deepest love not for the species of woman in whose company he finds himself electrified and enkindled, but for that one in whose company he may feel tenderly drowsy. * George Jean Nathan* We conceal it from ourselves in vain--we must always love something. In those matters seemingly removed from love, the feeling is secretly to be found, and man cannot possibly live for a moment without it. * Blaise Pascal* Love is something far more than desire for sexual intercourse; it is the principal means of escape from the loneliness which afflicts most men and women throughout the greater part of their lives. * Bertrand Russell* Love has features which pierce all hearts, he wears a bandage which conceals the faults of those beloved. He has wings, he comes quickly and flies away the same. * Voltaire* Love is always bestowed as a gift - freely, willingly and without expectation. We don't love to be loved; we love to love. *Leo Buscaglia* Sometimes it's a form of love just to talk to somebody that you have nothing in common with and still be fascinated by their presence. *David Byrne*[/COLOR][/B] [/QUOTE]
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