I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.
Love and war are two different battlefields.
What I want is to be needed. What I need is to be indispensable to somebody. Who I need is somebody that will eat up all my free time, my ego, my attention. Somebody addicted to me. A mutual addiction.
In love we find out who we want to be; in war we find out who we are.
Love her, love her, love her! If she favors you, love her. If she wounds you, love her. If she tears your heart to pieces, — and as it gets older and stronger it will tear deeper, — love her, love her, love her!
Love does not obey anyone and will betray those who try to decipher its mystery.
It is not beauty that endears, it’s love that makes us see beauty.[Не по хорошỳ мил, а по милỳ хорош.]
Invade me with your hot mouth; interrogate me with your night-eyes, if you want — only let me steer like a ship through your name; let me rest there.
By night, Love, tie your heart to mine, and the two together in their sleep will defeat the darkness.
Your hair is winter fire, January embers. My heart burns there, too.
You don’t have to love me but you damn well have to respect me.
Where love reigns, there is no will to power; and where the will to power is paramount, love is lacking. The one is but the shadow of the other.
