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Nothing but real love--(how rare it is; has one human heart in a million ever known it?) nothing but real love can repay us for the loss of freedom--the cares and fears of poverty--the cold pity of the world that we both despise and respect.
      - Edward George Earle Lytton Bulwer-Lytton, 1st Baron Lytton

Our very wretchedness grows dear to us when suffering for one we love.
      - Edward George Earle Lytton Bulwer-Lytton, 1st Baron Lytton

Love thou, and if thy love be deep as mine,
  Thou wilt not laugh at poets.
      - Edward George Earle Lytton Bulwer-Lytton, 1st Baron Lytton,
        Richelieu (act I, sc. 1, l. 177)

Love has no thought of self!
  Love buys not with the ruthless usurer's gold
    The loathsome prostitution of a hand
      Without a heart! Love sacrifices all things
        To bless the thing it loves!
      - Edward George Earle Lytton Bulwer-Lytton, 1st Baron Lytton,
        The Lady of Lyons (act V, sc. 2, l. 23)

No matter what you do, if your heart is ever true,
  And his heart was true to Poll.
      - Sir Francis Cowley Burnand,
        His Heart was true to Poll

O, my Luve is like a red, red rose,
  That's newly sprung in June.
    O, my Luve is like the melodie,
      That's sweetly played in tune.
      - Robert Burns, A Red, Red Rose

To see her is to love her,
  And love but her forever;
    For nature made her what she is,
      And never made anither!
      - Robert Burns, Bonny Lesley

The wisest man the warl' e'er saw,
  He dearly loved the lasses, O.
      - Robert Burns, Green Grow the Rashes

The golden hours on angel wings
  Flew o'er me and my dearie,
    For dear to me as light and life
      Was my sweet Highland Mary.
      - Robert Burns, Highland Mary

Oh my luve's like a red, red rose,
  That's newly sprung in June;
    Oh my luve's like the melodie
      That's sweetly played in tune.
      - Robert Burns, Red, Red Rose

What is life, when wanting love?
  Night without a morning;
    Love's the cloudless summer sun,
      Nature gay adorning.
      - Robert Burns, Thine am I, my Faithful Fair

To enlarge or illustrate this power of the effects of love is to set a candle in the sun.
      - Robert Burton

And this is that Homer's golden chain, which reacheth down from heaven to earth, by which every creature is annexed, and depends on his Creator.
      - Robert Burton, Anatomy of Melancholy
         (pt. III, sec. 1, memb. 1, subsec. 7)

The falling out of lovers is the renewing of love.
      - Robert Burton, Anatomy of Melancholy
         (pt. III, sec. 2)

No cord or cable can so forcibly draw, or hold so fast, as love can do with a twined thread.
      - Robert Burton, Anatomy of Melancholy
         (pt. III, sec. 2, memb. 1, subsec. 2)

Je ne vous aime pas, Hylas;
  Je n'en saurois dire la cause;
    Je sais seulement une chose.
      C'est que je ne vous aime pas.
      - Roger de Bussy-Rabutin (de Bussy) epigram 32, bk. I,
        paraphrase of Martial

Love in your hearts as idly burns
  As fire in antique Roman urns.
      - Samuel Butler (1), Hudibras
         (pt. II, canto I)

Love is a boy by poets styl'd:
  Then spare the rod and spoil the child.
      - Samuel Butler (1), Hudibras
         (pt. II, canto I, l. 843)

What mad lover ever dy'd,
  To gain a soft and gentle bride?
    Or for a lady tender-hearted,
      In purling streams or hemp departed?
      - Samuel Butler (1), Hudibras
         (pt. III, canto I)

When things were as fine as could possibly be
  I thought 'twas the spring, but alas it was she.
      - John Byrom, A Pastoral

Love has made its best interpreter a sigh.
      - Lord Byron (George Gordon Noel Byron)

Love is old, old as eternity, but not outworn; with each new being born or to be born.
      - Lord Byron (George Gordon Noel Byron)

Soon or late love is his own avenger.
      - Lord Byron (George Gordon Noel Byron)

Yes--it was love--if thoughts o? tenderness,
  Tried in temptation, strengthen'd by distress,
    Unmov'd by absence, firm in every clime,
      And yet--oh more than all! untired by time,
        Which nor defeated hope, nor baffled wile,
          Could render sullen were she near to smile,
            Nor rage could fire, nor sickness fret to vent
              On her one murmur of his discontent;
                Which still would meet with joy, with calmness part,
                  Lest that his look of grief should reach her heart;
                    Which nought removed, nor menaced to remove--
                      If there be love in mortals--this was love!
      - Lord Byron (George Gordon Noel Byron)

Oh Love! young Love! bound in thy rosy band,
  Let sage or cynic prattle as he will,
    These hours, and only these, redeem Life's years of ill.
      - Lord Byron (George Gordon Noel Byron),
        Childe Harold (canto II, st. 81)

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