“Love means having to say you’re sorry every fifteen minutes.”

I could sooner count the stars than list all the things I love about you.

Where both deliberate, the love is slight: Who ever lov’d, that lov’d not at first sight?

I don’t say I know what love is. But whatever it is, you are its every shade.

After all, damn it, what does being in love mean if you can’t trust a person.

To see a young couple loving each other is no wonder; but to see an old couple loving each other is the best sight of all.

Love cannot in its very nature be peaceful or content. It is a restlessness, an unsatisfaction. I can grant a lasting love just as I can grant a lasting unsatisfaction; but the lasting love cannot be coupled with possession, for love is pain and desire and possession is easement and fulfilment.

My best friend had a hockey scholarship at Ohio State, so I would get a couple of pairs at the beginning of the season and send them down to him. They practised two hours a day. He’d skate in them for three weeks then ship them back.

A strong beginning is a good thing only when coupled with a strong finish.