Love isn't supposed to make sense. It's completely illogical.
Love brings to light a lover's noble and hidden qualities - his rare and exceptional traits; it is thus liable to be deceptive of his normal qualities.
We are fated to love one another, we hardly exist outside our love, and we are just animals without it, with a birth and a death and constant fear between. Our love has lifted us up, out of the dreadfulness of merely living.
Mature love is composed and sustaining; a celebration of commitment, companionship, and trust.
No, this trick won't work...How on earth are you ever going to explain in terms of chemistry and physics so important a biological phenomenon as first love?
Immature love says, "I love you because I need you." Mature love says, "I need you because I love you."
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.
The most powerful symptom of love is a tenderness which becomes at times almost insupportable.
Love begins at home, and it is not how much we do, but how much love we put in that action.