✿ I’m Glad I Met ✿

Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation

 Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of withering, of tarnishing.

Love can sometimes be magic. But magic can sometimes... just be an illusion.

 It is with true love as it is with ghosts; everyone talks about it, but few have seen it.

Love is never lost. If not reciprocated, it will flow back and soften and purify the heart.

There is no disguise that can for long conceal love where it exists or simulate it where it does not.

Great passions, my dear, don't exist: they're liars’ fantasies. What do exist are little loves that may last for a short or a longer while.

Nothing takes the taste out of peanut butter quite like unrequited love.

Trying to forget someone you love is like trying to remember someone you never knew.

Maybe part of loving is learning to let go.