Love is the finest flower that blooms in God’s garden.
People who are sensible about love are incapable of it.
Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.
There is a fullness of all things, even of sleep and love
Love is the irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.
Love is not only something you feel. It is something you do.
Love is hugging. Love is kissing. Love is saying no sometimes.
Love starts with a smile, grows with a kiss, and ends with a tear.
In love, as in gluttony, pleasure is a matter of the utmost precision.
A kiss is two divided by nothing.
Take it and return it: the kiss of love
Is not a kiss the very autograph of love?
People who throw kisses are hopelessly lazy.
A kiss is a few bits of love compiled into a byte.
I wasn’t kissing her, I was whispering in her mouth.
A kiss is the upper persuasion for a lower invasion.
A kiss is the shortest distance between two straight lines.
Her kisses left something to be desired… the rest of her.
The most eloquent silence; that of two mouths meeting in a kiss.
The soul that can speak with its eyes can also kiss with a gaze.