Immature love says, I love you because I need you.
mature love says, I need you because I love you.

Gentlemen, to the lady without whom i should never have survived to weighty, nor sixty, nor yet
thirty years. her smile has been my lyric, her understanding the rhythm of the stanza. 
she has been the spring where from I have drawn the words. she is the poem of my life.

Love is more pleasant once you get out of
you twenties. it doesn't hurt all the time.

Love seems the swiftest but it is the slowest of all growths.
no man or woman really knows what perfect love is until they have
bee married a quarter of century:

Our love is like the mystery rain that 
falls softly - but floods the river

Love, let us live as we have lived, nor lose
the little names that were the first night's grace,
and never come the day that sees us old,
I still you lad, and you my little lass.
let me be older than old Nester's years,
and you the Sibyl, if we heed it not.
what should we know we two, of ripe old age?
we'll have its richness, and the years forgot.

How many loved you moments of glad grace,
and loved your beauty with love false and true,
but one man loved the pilgrim soul in you
and loved the sorrows of your changing face.

Many waters cannot quench love,
neither can the floods drown it.

We've been together now for forty years,
An it don't seem a day too much;
There aunt a lady liven `in the land
As I'd swoop for my dear old Dutch.

That quiet mutual gaze of a trusting husband and wife is like the first
moment of rest or refuge from a freak weariness or a great danger.

In the huge mysteries of time and space I feel
your arm about my shoulder and am not afraid.

"How stupid people are to say that the honeymoon is the best
time," said Natasha. "On the contrary, now is far better."

Photographer James Vander Zee says of a youthful 

photograph of his wife displayed in his home:
When she was young I loved her because she was beautiful. 

when she got old I loved her because ill knew her."

He will grow old ad will grow old,
he will love you and you love him.
may your sun in a blaze of gold
and the night creep in.

Young love is a flame; very pretty, often very hot and fierce, but still only light and flickering.
The love of the older and disciplined heart is as coals, deep burning, unquenchable.

A woman of 47 who has been married 27 years old has six children knows what love real in end
one describe it for me like this: "Love is what you've been through with somebody."

Sensual pleasure passes and vanishes 

in the twinkling of an eye, 
but the friendship between us, the mutual 

confidence, the delights of the heart, 

the enchantment of the soul, 

these things do not perish and can never
be destroyed. I shall love you until I die.