I had a dove and the sweet dove died; / And I have thought it died of grieving: / O, what could it grieve for? Its feet were tied, / With a silken thread of my own hand's weaving; / Sweet little red feet! why should you die-- / Why should you leave me, sweet bird! why? / You liv'd alone in the forest-tree, / Why, pretty thing! would you not live with me? / I kiss'd you oft and gave you white peas; / Why not live sweetly, as in the green trees?
I sang my princess fast asleep, / ’Cause she was my dream come true. / Oh, Annmarie, believe me, I loved you.
- “Lonely Lullaby” Owl City
My heart is, and always will be, yours.
~ Edward Ferrars to Elinor Dashwood, Sense and Sensibility (1995)
“My heart is, and always will be, yours.”
- Edward Ferrars, Sense and Sensibility (1995)
You say you’re sure? Sure that you’re in love? How can you know it? You think love is so simple?
~ Never Let Me Go, Kazuo Ishiguro
My love is selfish. I cannot breathe without you.
~ John Keats to Fanny Brawne, 13 October, 1819
Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one’s life with pomp and blare, like a gay knight riding down; perhaps it crept to one’s side like an old friend through quiet ways; perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose, until some sudden shaft of illumination flung athwart its pages betrayed the rhythm and the music; perhaps… perhaps… love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship, as a golden-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath.
~ Anne of Avonlea, L.M. Montgomery
“… perhaps… love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship, as a golden-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath.”
- Anne of Avonlea, L.M. Montgomery
I cannot exist without you—I am forgetful of every thing but seeing you again—my Life seems to stop there—I see no further.
~ John Keats to Fanny Brawne