“Never give all the heart, for loveWill hardly seem worth thinking ofTo passionate women if it seemCertain, and they never dreamThat it fades out from kiss to kiss;For everything that's lovely isBut a brief, dreamy, kind delight.O Never give the heart outright,For they, for all smooth lips can say,Have given their hearts up to the play.And who could play it well enoughIf deaf and dumb and blind with love?He that made this knows all the cost,For he gave all his heart and lost.”
“Everything that's lovely isBut a brief, dreamy kind of delight.”
“Well, as to that, all I'll say is, you can't take out a fellow's heart before he's ready to give it up.”
“He had a smug smile on his lips like he knew, even in his sleep, that women all around him were dying from love because he'd taken their hearts and hidden them where they'd never find them.”
“I’ve been through all this before,’ he says to his heart.“ ‘Yes, you have been through all this before,’ replies his heart. ‘But you have never been beyond it.”
“And I never expected that you could have a broken heart and love with it too, so much that it doesn't seem broken at all.”