thoughts about love.

I love you without knowing

how, or when, or from where.

I love you straightforwardly,

without complixities or pride;

so I love you because I know

no other way than this:

where I does not exist, nor you,

so close that your hand

on my chest is my hand,

so close that your eyes close

as I fall asleep.

SONNET XVII

Pablo Neruda

The real lover is the man who can thrill you by kissing your forehead.

Marilyn Monroe

You

have

bewitched

me,

body

and

soul.

Pride and Prejudice