I remember walking the dog one day I saw a car full of teenage girls and one of them rolled down the window and yelled 'Marc Jacobs!' in a French accent.
But love's a malady without a cure.
War is the trade of Kings.
For truth has such a face and such a mien as to be loved needs only to be...
Dancing is the poetry of the foot.
There is no reciprocity. Men love women. Women love children. Children...
Loving, like prayer, is a power as well as a process. It’s curative....
The very essence of romance is uncertainty.
