As we grow older together, As we continue to change with age, There is one thing that will never change. . . I will always keep falling in love with you.
Give her two red roses, each with a note. The first note says For the woman I love and the second, For my best friend.
Two souls with but a single thought, Two hearts that beat as one.
Anyone can be passionate, but it takes real lovers to be silly.
Two lives, two hearts joined together in friendship united forever in love.
Men always want to be a woman's first love. Women have a more subtle instinct: What they like is to be a man's last romance.
As a Rose absorbs the nutrients it feeds on and as it thrives to see the sun as it must to survive...... the Rose becomes more beautiful and in turn will provide sunshine to those who can behold it's beauty. Fortunate is the Man who can see the Rose within a Woman. Blessed is the man who this Woman holds to be her nutrient, her sunshine.
She who makes her husband and her children happy, who reclaims the one from vice, and trains up the other to virtue, is a much greater character than the ladies described in romance, whose whole occupation is to murder mankind with shafts from their quiver or their eyes.
Rather would I have the love songs of romantic ages, rather Don Juan and Madame Venus, rather an elopement by ladder and rope on a moonlight night, followed by the father's curse, mother's moans, and the moral comments of neighbors, than correctness and propriety measured by yardsticks.
Writers of novels and romance in general bring a double loss to their readers; robbing them of their time and money; representing men, manners, and things, that never have been, or are likely to be.