Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs. Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes. Being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers' tears. What is it else? A madness most discreet, a choking gall and a preserving sweet.
Shakespeare
Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.
Aristotle
Love is not altogether a delirium, yet it has many points in common therewith.
Thomas Carlyle
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