Jenny Han Quotes

I loved him as we always love the first time: with idolatry and wild passion.

I loved her, atom by atom, one burning cell at a time.

Love in the young requires as little of hope as of desire to feed upon.

No, there's nothing half so sweet in life as love's young dream.

We all want to be 20 again and have that first sense of love.

Young love is wild and outrageous, laughing at moderation and blinding us to common sense.

I've always considered myself a fairly romantic person. I believe in love and falling in love at a young age.

In fiction, as in real life, love might inspire acts that are at best foolish and at worst life-threatening, but in the best romances, love is the final, secret ingredient that turns mere mortals into heroes and heroines.

It is best to love wisely, no doubt; but to love foolishly is better than not to be able to love at all.

Love is being stupid together.

I fell in love at 18 when I was in college, and that's probably why I know what it's like to be in love, and I can express it in a better way.

Tell me anything. Tell me everything. Revoke our time apart. Love me fierce in danger.

I love you. I'm blind for you, wild for you. Sick with you. I told you that our first night together when I asked you to marry me, I am telling you now. Everything that's happened to us, everything, is because I crossed the street for you. I worship you. You know that through and through.

Love, that is day and night - love, that is sun and moon and stars, Love, that is crimson, sumptuous, sick with perfume, no other words but words of love, no other thought but love.

Love heightens all senses - except the common.

Love is . . . a madness most discreet

To be sure you know no actual good of me, but nobody thinks of that when they fall in love.

Oh, what is young love! The urge of the race. A blaze that ends in babies or ashes.

Of one that lov'd not wisely but too well.

love is blind and lovers cannot see the pretty follies that themselves commit

Maybe that was how it was with all first loves. They own a little piece of your heart, always.

When I saw my wife again standing by the tracks as the train came in by the piled logs at the station, I wished I had died before I had ever loved anyone but her.

Isn't it grand, isn't it good, that language has only one word for everything we associate with love - from utter sanctity to the most fleshly lust? The result is perfect clarity in ambiguity, for love cannot be disembodied even in its most sanctified forms, nor is it without sanctity even at its most fleshly. Love is always simply itself, both as a subtle affirmation of life and as the highest passion; love is our sympathy with organic life.