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.
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.
Love and war are two different battlefields.
In love we find out who we want to be; in war we find out who we are.
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.
So it’s not gonna be easy. It’s going to be really hard; we’re gonna have to work at this everyday, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, forever, everyday. You and me… everyday.
One is loved because one is loved. No reason is needed for loving.
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!
You end up becoming what you see in the eyes of those you love.
You are, and always have been, my dream.
Wounds heal. Love lasts. We remain.