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There are probably as many different dialects for the heart as for the tongue, are there not?
Elizabeth Barrett Browningverified·The Letters of Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Volume 1 (ed. Frederic G. Kenyon)·October 22, 1842
The complete collection
There are probably as many different dialects for the heart as for the tongue, are there not?
Whatever moves me, whatever thrills me, is as a hand that touches me in the dark, and that touch is my reality.
With the dropping of a little word from another's hand into mine, a slight flutter of the fingers, began the intelligence, the joy, the fullness of my life.
What to the intellect is old and worn-out is perennially young and fresh to the heart; curiosity is insatiable, but love is never tired.
Beauty is not a need but an ecstasy.
Only in love are unity and duality not at variance.
The lover sees no resemblance except to summer evenings and diamond mornings, to rainbows and the song of birds.
A mind might ponder its thought for ages and not gain so much self-knowledge as the passion of love shall teach it in a day.
Falling in love is the one illogical adventure, the one thing of which we are tempted to think as supernatural, in our trite and reasonable world.