Love… What is this? Love is the feeling inherent in man, a deep, selfless devotion to another person or object, a feeling of deep sympathy. In love… there is no fear
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Love… “Love is patient, love is not envious, not proud, does not seek its own, thinketh no evil…Love never fails” St. Paul, “Epistle to the Corinthians” Love…engenders confidence
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Love takes another man with all his advantages and disadvantages. Love…takes reality
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Love is what connects the closest people in spite of how far they are from you and helps keep the delicate Relationship whatever happens.
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Love is when you want to be with loved ones in spite of anything else. Only then you can truly love. Love… has the freedom to choose Love…it’s for a long time
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But without love… Duty without love makes a person irritable. Responsibility without love makes a person inconsiderate. Justice without love makes a person cruel. Truth without love makes a person criticizer.
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But without love… Education without love makes a person two-faced. The mind makes a man without love tricky. Friendliness without love makes a person disingenuous. Competence without love makes a person unyielding.
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But without love… Power without love makes a person rapist. Honor, without love makes a person arrogant. Wealth without love makes a person greedy. Faith without love makes a person a fanatic.
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There is only one great power on earth and in heaven – LOVE!
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No matter what people say… Love rules the world
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My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lips' red; If snow be white; why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. Ее глаза на звезды не похожи, Нельзя уста кораллами назвать, Не белоснежна плеч открытых кожа, И черной проволокой вьется прядь. Уильям Шекспир Сонет 130
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My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lips' red; If snow be white; why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. Ее глаза на звезды не похожи, Нельзя уста кораллами назвать, Не белоснежна плеч открытых кожа, И черной проволокой вьется прядь.
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I have seen roses damasked, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks, And in some perfumes is there more delight Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. С дамасской розой, алой или белой, Нельзя сравнить оттенок этих щек. А тело пахнет так, как пахнет тело, Не как фиалки нежный лепесток.
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I love to hear her speak, yet well I know That music hath a far more pleasing sound; I grant I never saw a goddess go - My mistress when she walks treads on the ground. Ты не найдешь в ней совершенных линий, Особенного света на челе. Не знаю я, как шествуют богини, Но милая ступает по земле.
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And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare. И все ж она уступит тем едва ли, Кого в сравненьях пышных оболгали.