Love Poems Quotes

Someone Should Write Me a Love Poem but I'm Stuck Doing It Myself

Don't write love poems when you're in love. Write them when you're not in love.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

They loved, and quarreled, and made up, and loved, and fought, and were true to each other and untrue. She made him the happiest man in the whole world and the most wretched, and after a few years she died, and then, when he was thirty, he died, too. But by that time Catullus had invented the love poem.

I think if you put something in a file that says "war poems" or "love poems" that you already restrict the way in which the poem might move.

Well, Thanksgiving we'll all gather at my house for dinner and we usually do Christmas at Beau's house. My mom is still feisty and kicking. She's 92. I saw her last night and she published a book at 90. It's a wonderful book called "You Caught Me Kissing" and it's basically love-poems that she wrote for my dad. It's more than that, it's a wonderful book.

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun

I still read Donne, particularly his love poems

The poem in Where Good Swimmers Drown are love poems. But love poems that defy the divisions between emotion and intellect, private and public, life and art, writer and reader. To read Elbe's poems is to discover not only what it means to be in love, but what it means to be alive.

See the mountains kiss high Heaven And the waves clasp one another; No sister-flower would be forgiven If it disdained its brother; And the sunlight clasps the earth, And the moonbeams kiss the sea - What is all this sweet work worth If thou kiss not me?

I’d cut my soul into a million different pieces just to form a constellation to light your way home. I’d write love poems to the parts of yourself you can’t stand. I’d stand in the shadows of your heart and tell you I’m not afraid of your dark.

It is the unspecified 'you' of modern love poems that I am mostly concerned with here. At least, the addressee is commonly a lover, and the very fact that the name is withheld is offered as a guarantee of the closeness and significance of the relationship.

Mister Cameron - I have read the unexpurgated Ovid, the love poems of Sappho, the Decameron in the original, and a great many texts in Greek and Latin histories that were not though fit for proper gentlemen to read, much less proper ladies. I know in precise detail what Caligula did to, and with, his sisters, and I can quote it to you in Latin or in my own translation if you wish. I am interested in historical truth, and truth in history is often unpleasant and distasteful to those of fine sensibility. I frankly doubt that you will produce anything to shock me.

I'm not lookin' for someone who can save me. Life rafts might keep you afloat but they rarely get you anywhere and I've got places I wanna go. So break me in two, peel back my rib cage and cover every page of my heart with love poems you will burn someday.

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May.

Summer's lease hath all too short a date.

But thy eternal summer shall not fade.

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date . . .

Every fair from fair sometime declines

I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

Shall I compare thee to a summer day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate... When in eternal lines to time thou growst So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks within his bending sickle's compass come.

Pleasure and pain at once register upon the lover, inasmuch as the desirability of the love object derives, in part, from its lack. To whom is it lacking? To the lover. If we follow the trajectory of eros we consistently find it tracing out this same route: it moves out from the lover toward the beloved, then ricochets back to the lover himself and the hole in him, unnoticed before. Who is the subject of most love poems? Not the beloved. It is that hole.

Love is anterior to life, posterior to death, initial of creation, and the exponent of breath.

The [book of the bible] Song Of Songs is an amazing erotic love poem that the church has tried very hard not to notice. It is really beautiful, and musical in its poetry.

Love is the beauty of the soul.

Sometimes, when you are in a really constrained situation, it makes you more focused about what you want to say and where you're heading. The most beautiful love poems that were ever written are sonnets, composed in a very constraining form.

Love bears it out even to the edge of doom.

Love is the master key that opens the gates of happiness.

More or Less Love Poems #11: No babe We'd never Swing together but the syncopation would be something wild

In dreams and in love there are no impossibilities.

Romantic Art: The Hearts Awakening - Bouguereau At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet.

Other men it is said have seen angels, but I have seen thee and thou art enough.

My love is deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, both are infinite.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments: love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds.

Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove. O, no! It is an ever-fixed mark, That looks on tempests and is never shaken. It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O no! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come: Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Love Poem ـــــــــ It's so nice to wake up in the morning all alone and not have to tell somebody you love them when you don't love them any more.

There is no remedy for love but to love more.

And if God choose I shall but love thee better after death.

I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints,-I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life!-and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.

'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you

Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.

Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach.