Love
“Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate.”
— William Shakespeare
Sonnet 18
Love
Even the finest summer day is flawed beside the beloved, who is lovelier and gentler than any season.
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“How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.”
— Elizabeth Barrett Browning · Love
“Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments. Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds.”
— William Shakespeare · Love
“O my Luve is like a red, red rose, that's newly sprung in June.”
— Robert Burns · Love