#poetry

My love has eyes blue as the sky. Her warm, bright smile makes me want to try To give her the world, And when she's curled Up in my arms where I can feel her touch, I realize again that I love her so much. My world has turned from black to white. Kissing in starlight, basking in sunlight, dancing at midnight.' ~John's poem for Belle ↗

— Julia Quinn

#original-poetry #splendid #love

...my heart rides the wind and my thoughts sail away - to a land below the horizon where I know you hide from me... ↗

— John Geddes

#horizon #land #poetry-quotes-love #sail-away #thoughts

Godlike the man who sits at her side, who watches and catches that laughter which (softly) tears me to tatters: nothing is left of me, each time I see her... ↗

— Catullus

#poetry #romance #women #love

I don't know if I have ever truly believed that everyone deserves love. But if I had to take it one moment further into those shadowed valleys of heartfull, I would admit that I do believe that love, deserves everyone. ↗

— Mikl Paul

#love-story #poetry-quotes #love

The novel is born of disillusionment; the poem, of despair. ↗

— Jose Bergamin

#born #despair #disillusionment #novel #poem

love as a passion—it is our European specialty—must absolutely be of noble origin; as is well known, its invention is due to the Provencal poet-cavaliers, those brilliant, ingenious men of the "gai saber," to whom Europe owes so much, and almost owes itself. ↗

— Friedrich Nietzsche

#noble #passion #philosophy #poet-knights #poetry

Haleine contre haleine, échauffe-moi la vie, Mille et mille baisers donne-moi je te prie, Amour veut tout sans nombre, amour n’a point de loi Translated: Breath against breath warms my life. A thousand kisses give me I pray thee. Love says it all without number, love knows no law. ↗

— Pierre de Ronsard

#love #poetry #life

Her belly ruptures full of parasites, Her eyes sink back in her skull Her butchered wrists, dangle From the edge of the bathtub Her children cuddle against her Desperate for love she cannot give ↗

— Wrath James White

#love

I can’t help but notice that you keep writing love poetry to my wife. Well, you see, I married her, which makes her my wife. You know what you might want to try? Writing some poems about the sunset. The sunset isn’t fucking married. ↗

— A.J. Jacobs

#marriage #poetry #humor

Will you walk into my parlour?" said the Spider to the Fly ↗

— Mary Howitt

#lessons #poetry #humor