The real index of civilization is when people are kinder than they need to be.

Love itself is what is left over when being "in love" has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.

In deference to such spectacular carnage it is perhaps perverse to dwell upon one person's death, but we are creatures so constituted that the passing of one friend or one acquaintance has a profounder effect that that of 100,000 strangers. If there is any metaphorical truth in the Jewish proverb that he who saves one life saves the whole world, then there is equal metaphorical truth in the proposition that when one person dies, the whole world dies with them.

Your lips are like sugar And your cheeks an apple Your breasts are paradise And your body a lily. O, to kiss the sugar To bite the apple To reveal paradise And open the lily.

We have roots that grow towards each other underground. And when all the pretty blossom has fallen from our branches we find that we are one tree and not two.

He gets into the habit of thinking so passionately at night that he begins to be persecuted by insomnia.

When you have children it completely shifts your focus; they become the most passionate love of your life...