No love-story has ever been told twice. I never heard any tale of lovers that did not seem to me as new as the world on its first morning.

Old sundial, you stand here for Time: For Love, the vine that round your base, Its tendrils twines, and dares to climb, And lay one flower-capped spray in grace, Without the asking on your cold, Unsmiling and unfrowning face.

In love there are no penalties and no payments, and what is given is indistinguishable from what is received.

Ecstasy cannot be constant, or it would kill.

And he loved her, both for her fault and her redemption of it, more than he had ever thought that he could love her; for he had believed that in their kiss love had reached its uttermost. But love has no uttermost, as the stars have no number and the sea no rest.

No love-story has ever been told twice. I never heard any tale of lovers that did not seem to me as new as the world on its first morning.

He bent his head and kissed her long and deeply, and in that kiss neither knew themselves, or even each other, but something beyond all consciousness that was both of them.