The quarrels of lovers are like summer showers that leave the country more verdant and beautiful

We progress to regress, you and I, always beginning where we began. Hurrying forward just enough, so that our “back-sliding” will not lead to 'our' end. Wondering when will Love grow tired of our loveless game, of our disregard for the feelings that true love claims, of you and I and the same-old-same.

In spite of your lies and deceit, I admit I do love you darling, I really do. But I must leave you anyway, because there is nothing left within you that I can live with.

If I said that I couldn't live without Tom, it wouldn't be true. Of course I can live without him. It's just that it isn't going to be much fun.

Obstinacy is ever most positive when it is most in the wrong.

The quarrels of lovers are like summer storms. Everything is more beautiful when they have passed.