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Romantic

Excerpt From: Captain Corelli's Mandolin

Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your root was so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is.

 

Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being in love, which any fool can do. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.

 

Those that truly love have roots that grow towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossoms have fallen from their branches, they find that they are one tree and not two.

Sonnett 116

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O, no! it is an ever-fixèd mark,

That looks on tempests and is not shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.

Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeksWithin his bending sickle’s compass come;

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom,

If this be error, and upon me proved,

I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

The Bridge Across Forever

A soul mate is someone who has locks that fit our keys, and keys to fit

our locks. When we feel safe enough to open the locks, our truest selves

step out and we can be completely and honestly who we are; we can be

loved for who we are and not for who we’re pretending to be. Each

unveils the best part of the other. No matter what else goes wrong

around us, with that one person we’re safe in our own paradise. Our

soul mate is someone who shares our deepest longings, our sense of

direction. When we’re two balloons, and together our direction is up,

chances are we’ve found the right person. Our soul mate is the one who

makes life come to life.

Marriage Fulfils The Dreams And Love Two People Share

Everyone searches for one special person

They can share their lives with.

The other half who makes them whole,

Like two notes blending together to make a beautiful song,

Or the colours that complement

Each other to form a rainbow

It is everyone’s wish to have a lifetime of sunny days,

A rainbow after every storm;

A lifetime of loving and living and growing and giving,

Of sharing and caring; a lifetime of days together,

Learning from the bad times and cherishing the good times

Marriage is everything your heart desires

And the strength, courage and determination to work for it

In marriage you take care of each other’s heart

And hold on to what you share.

You hold it gently so it doesn’t smother

And firmly so it doesn’t slip away

 Hold it so that it can grow

And you can grow together

And live and laugh and love together always

Love Poem

Yours is the face that the earth turns to me,

Continuous beyond its human features lie

The mountain forms that rest against the sky.

With your eyes, the reflecting rainbow, the sun's light

Sees me; forest and flower, bird and beast

Know and hold me forever in the world's thought,

Creation's deep untroubled retrospect.

When your hand touches mine it is the earth

That takes me--the green grass,

And rocks and rivers; the green graves,

And children still unborn, and ancestors,

In love passed down from hand to hand.

Your love comes from the creation of the world,

From those paternal fingers, streaming through the clouds

That break with light the surface of the sea.

Here, where I trace your body with my hand,

Love's presence has no end;

For these, your arms that hold me, are the world's.

In us, the continents, clouds and oceans meet

Our arbitrary selves, extensive with the night,

Lost, in the heart's worship, and the body's sleep

Let Me Put It This way

Let me put it this way:

if you came to lay

 

your sleeping head

against my arm or sleeve,

 

and if my arm went dead,

or if I had to take my leave

 

at midnight, I should rather

cleave it from the joint or seam

 

than make a scene

or bring you round.

 

There,

how does that sound?

Home And Love

Just Home and Love! The words are small
Four little letters unto each;
And yet you will not find in all
The wide and gracious range of speech
Two more so tenderly complete:
When angels talk in Heaven above,
I'm sure they have no words more sweet
Than Home and Love.

Just Home and Love! It’s hard to guess
which of the two were best to gain;
home without Love is bitterness;
Love without Home is often pain.
No! Each alone will seldom do;
somehow, they travel hand and glove:
If you win one you must have two,
Both Home and Love.

And if you've both, well then, I'm sure
you ought to sing the whole day long;
It doesn't matter if you're poor
with these to make divine your song.
And so I praisefully repeat,
when angels talk in Heaven above,
there are no words more simply sweet
Than Home and Love.

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