“Love is the cure,
for your pain will keep giving birth to more pain
until your eyes constantly exhale love as effortlessly as your body yields its scent.” ~Rumi
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“.. I wanted to run out and kiss her fanatastic beauty and say: ‘June, you have killed my sincerity too. I will never know again who I am, what I am, what I love, what I want. Your beauty has drowned me, the core of me. You carry away with you a part of me reflected in you. When your beauty struck me, it dissolved me. Deep down, I am not different from you. I dreamed you, I wished for your existance. You are the woman I want to be. I see in you that part of me which is you. I feel compassion for your childlike pride, for your trembling unsureness, your dramatization of events, your enhancing of the loves given to you. I surrender my sincerity because if I love you it means we share the same fantasies, the same madnesses” The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Volume 1: 1931-1934
SHE walks in beauty, like the night, Of cloudless climes and starry skies;And all that ‘s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellow’d to that tender light; Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impair’d the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress, Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express; How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o’er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent! – George Gordon Byron, Lord Byron. 1788–1824