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The magic of first love is our ignorance that it can ever end.
— First love
The magic of first love is our ignorance that it can ever end.
How is it that the poets have said so many fine things about our first love, so few about our later love? Are their first poems their best? Or are not those the best which come from their fuller thought, their larger experience, their deeper-rooted affections?
Your first love has no beginning or end. Your first love is not your first love, and it is not your last. It is just love. It is one with everything.
The way it happens is that in taking their first love to God the lovers thank God for it. Thereby an ennobling change takes place. … it is truly far more beautiful to take the beloved as a gift from God’s hand than to have subdued the whole world in order to make a conquest of her.
For the happy individualities, the first love is also the second, the third, the last; here the first love has the qualification of eternity; for the unhappy individualities the first love is the instant; it acquires the qualification of the temporal.
God will look to every soul like its first love because He is its first love.
Love at first sight is a revival of an infantile impression. The first love object reappears in a different disguise.
