The events of childhood do not pass but repeat themselves like seasons of the year.

The events of childhood do not pass but repeat themselves like seasons of the year.

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.

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

On Hallowe'en the old ghosts come about us, and they speak to some; to others they are dumb.

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.

Upon your shattered ruins where, This vine will flourish still, as rare, As fresh, as fragrant as of old. Love will not crumble.