How much can we ever know about the love and pain in another heart? How much can we hope to understand those who have suffered deeper anguish, and more crushing disappointments than we ourselves have known?
Every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter...
Happiness is holding someone in your arms and knowing you hold the whole world.
Please, tell me then, does love make one a fool or do only fools fall in love?!