Passion does not blind. No. Passion is sanity, and the woman you love, she is the only person you will ever really understand.

He would give up then, and console himself with something she’d said: that you could not love what you fully understood. Love, she maintained, was a process, not a state. Held still, it withered. He wasn’t too sure about all that; he seemed to have found a calm clear serenity in himself he hadn’t even known was there, thanks to her.

He told me that love was the only thing that really mattered in the world.

Oh, be wise, Thou! Instructed that true knowledge leads to love.

From her he had learned two fundamental things about love: first, that unlike what the romantics so pompously argued, love was more a gradual course than a sudden blossoming at first sight, and second, that he was capable of loving.

So you know that the RIGHT kind of love ... the kind that's REAL, that SACRIFICES ... that kind of love doesn't BLIND you. It actually helps you SEE.

Look your best - who said love is blind?

Ghosh trusted me to do whatever it is I would choose to do. That, too, is love. He'd been dead more than a quarter century and he was still teaching me about the trust that comes only from true love.

Love, it is said, is blind, but love is not blind. It is an extra eye, which shows us what is most worthy of regard. To see the best is to see most clearly, and it is the lover's privilege.

She taught me to love by loving me, and I learned — rather slowly; I wasn’t too good a pupil, being set in my ways and lacking her natural talent. But I did learn. Learned that supreme happiness lies in wanting to keep another person safe and warm and happy, and being privileged to try.

We think we don't deserve love, we think if we let it in we'll become too soft. But a wise man named Levine said it right. He said, 'Love is the only rational act.

They say love is blind, but it’s trauma that’s blind. Love sees what is.

Love is a lesson worth learning.

He learned, though slowly, what all great harrowed lovers learn: that love is what most surely compels love — is perhaps, except for brute force, the only thing that does, though only (and this was the terrible gift he had been given) when the lover truly believes, as August could, that when his love is strong enough it must surely be returned — and August's was.