Quote by Honoré de Balzac
Love has its own instinct, finding the way to the heart, as the feeblest insect finds the way to its flower, with a will which nothing can dismay nor turn aside.
For me, to love is to live; I feel this, I see it more than ever now; all things prove it to me; I recognize that never again can any taste, any absorption of mind, any passion exist for me but that you know of, -- which fills not only my heart, but my whole brain.
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