Love never reasons, but profusely gives; it gives like a thoughtless prodigal its all, and then trembles least it has done to little.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
Love has reasons which reason cannot understand.
Love gives itself; it is not bought.
One is loved because one is loved. No reason is needed for loving.
Love is an obsession. It has that quality to it. But there are healthy obsessions, and mine is one of them.
As in all matters involving love, which has so many different meanings, you find that the feeling that we label 'love' is not a simple feeling, it's a very complex one. Under the heading 'love' can come all sorts of rage and desperation.
The fact is that love is of two kinds, one which commands, and one which obeys. The two are quite distinct, and the passion to which the one gives rise is not the passion of the other.
What love is depends on where you are in relation to it. Secure in it, it can feel as mundane and necessary as air - you exist within it, almost unnoticing. Deprived of it, it can feel like an obsession; all consuming - a physical pain.
Love is the essence of life; love touches all of our work. Love never leaves us. It clings to us, and we cling to it.
Love is when the desire to be desired takes you so badly that you feel you could die of it.
Love is the ability and willingness to allow those that you care for to be what they choose for themselves without any insistence that they satisfy you.
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