The reason it hurts so much for us to be separated is because our souls are connected.
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her. To hear the immense night, more immense without her. And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass.
Loving someone who doesn't love you back is like hugging a cactus. The tighter you hold on, the more it hurts.
Intimacy is not purely physical. It's the act of connecting with someone so deeply, you feel like you can see into their soul.
It hurts when you're being ignored by the person whose attention is the only thing you want in the world.
Since love grows within you, so beauty grows. For love is the beauty of the soul.
Surely the saddest thing in the world is falling out of love - if once one has ever fallen in.
Music I heard with you was more than music, and bread I broke with you was more than bread. Now that I am without you, all is desolate; all that was once so beautiful is dead.
Another reason why we must love our enemies is that hate scars the soul and distorts the personality.
I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.
For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul.
I have not broken your heart - you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine.
You think I have no feelings, and that I can do without one bit of love or kindness; but I cannot live so: and you have no pity.
Beauty is certainly a soft, smooth, slippery thing, and therefore of a nature which easily slips in and permeates our souls.
And he that shuts out love, in turn shall be shut out from love, and on her threshold lie howling in outer darkness.