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Mistresses are like books; if you pore upon them too much, they doze you and make you unfit for company; but if used discreetly, you are the fitter for conversation by them.

In every question and every remark tossed back and forth between lovers who have not played out the last fugue, there is one question and it is this: "Is there someone new?

Lovers do not wish to see the faults of their mistresses until their enchantment is at an end.

What a woman says to her ardent lover should be written in wind and running water.

We attain God who is Love by loving.

I have had unwise relationships, mistaking anger for intensity and jealousy for love.

In true love there is no pride.

I do not love you I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body. I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way that this: where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

These two imparadised in one another's arms, the happier Eden, shall enjoy their fill of bliss on bliss.

I would not miss your face, your neck, your hands, your limbs, your bosom and certain other of your charms. Indeed, not to become boring by naming them all, I could do without you, Chloe, altogether.