We love but once, for once only are we perfectly equipped for loving.

I long for the raised voice, the howl of rage or love.

Love is love's reward.

But love's a malady without a cure.

Love is much nicer to be in than an automobile accident, a tight girdle, a higher tax bracket or a holding pattern over Philadelphia.

Is it not by love alone that we succeed in penetrating to the very essence of being?

Who would give a law to lovers? Love is unto itself a higher law.

Love is blind.

When we lose one we love, our bitterest tears are called forth by the memory of hours when we loved not enough.

The cure for all the ills and wrongs, the cares, the sorrows, and the crimes of humanity, all lie in the one word 'love'. It is the divine vitality that everywhere produces and restores life.