Above all dont lie to yourself. The man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to a point that he cannot distinguish the truth within him or around him and so loses all respect for himself and for others. And having no respect he ceases to love.

I love you as certain dark things are to be loved in secret between the shadow and the soul.

When love is not madness it is not love.

Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.

What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again.

Love is needing someone. Love is putting up with someones bad qualities because they somehow complete you.

There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally in a heartbeat in a single flashing throbbing moment.

Declarations of love amuse me. Especially when unrequited.

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.

We live and breathe words. .... It was books that made me feel that perhaps I was not completely alone. They could be honest with me and I with them. Reading your words what you wrote how you were lonely sometimes and afraid but always brave the way you saw the world its colors and textures and sounds I felt--I felt the way you thought hoped felt dreamt. I felt I was dreaming and thinking and feeling with you. I dreamed what you dreamed wanted what you wanted--and then I realized that truly I just wanted you.