People kill for love. They die for love.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
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.
It is love, not reason, that is stronger than death.
Murder is born of love, and love attains the greatest intensity in murder.
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.
We are all born for love. It is the principle of existence, and its only end.
Love and death are the two great hinges on which all human sympathies turn.
Unable are the loved to die, for love is immortality.
They sin who tell us Love can die: with Life all other passions fly, all others are but vanity.
Falling in love is the best way to kill your heart because then it's not yours anymore. It's laid in a coffin, waiting to be cremated.
Now more than ever, I have learned that, when people die, they truly do live throughout those who love them.
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