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If a man should importune me to give a reason why I loved him, I find it could no otherwise be expressed, than by making answer: because it was he, because it was I.

If a man urge me to tell wherefore I loved him, I feel it cannot be expressed but by answering: Because it was he, because it was myself.

I wanted him to love me, and I'm quite sure that he didn't.

If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.

I can't say I ever loved my mother; I admired her.

I'm sad and blue, about nobody but you. I told you that I loved you right from the start, you told me the same and now you try to break my little heart.

I think what he loved about me the most was that I wasn't part of that world. But once we were together publicly, he wanted to change me into that social animal.

I can't think I've ever loved anybody quite as much... My mother was my life, really; she was my entire world.