Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
Love never dies of starvation, but often of indigestion.
We do not know what love is. We know the symptoms of it, the pleasure, the pain, the fear, the anxiety and so on. We try to solve the symptoms, which becomes a wandering in darkness. We spend our days and nights in this, and it is soon over in death.
People kill for love. They die for love.
Love dies only when growth stops.
Love is life's end, but never ending. Love is life's wealth, never spent, but ever spending. Love's life's reward, rewarded in rewarding.
Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies.
Love is when the desire to be desired takes you so badly that you feel you could die of it.
One does not kill oneself for love of a woman, but because love - any love - reveals us in our nakedness, our misery, our vulnerability, our nothingness.
What is lovely never dies, But passes into other loveliness.
Love is a symbol of eternity. It wipes out all sense of time, destroying all memory of a beginning and all fear of an end.