“Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs;Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears;What is it else? A madness most discreet,A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.”

“Why, such is love's transgression.Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast,Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prestWith more of thine: this love that thou hast shownDoth add more grief to too much of mine own.Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs;Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;Being vex'd a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears:What is it else? a madness most discreet,A choking gall and a preserving sweet.Farewell, my coz.”

“Lovers are rarely the most rational beings in creation...”

“I'm not interested in being a "lover." I'm interested in only being love.”

“The talk of lovers who have just declared their love is one of life's most sweet delights. Each vies with the other in humility, in amazement at being so valued. The past is searched for the first signs and each one is in haste to declare all that he is so that no part of his being escapes the hallowing touch.”

“I love love. I love having a lover and being one. The insularity of passion. I love it. I love the way it blurs the distinction between everyone who isn't one's lover.”