Quotes from Pablo Neruda

You can crush the flowers, but you can't stop the spring.

I love all the things there are, and of all fires love is the only inexhaustible one; and that's why I go from life to life.

And it follows that I am, because you are: it follows from 'you are', that I am, and we: and, because of love, you will, I will, we will, come to be.

so I love you because I know no other way than this: where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

You are like nobody since I love you.

I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: I love you as certain dark things are loved, secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

But I love your feet only because they walked upon the earth and upon the wind and upon the waters, until they found me.

I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to glimpse you in every window.

It was my destiny to love and say goodbye.

I love all things, not only the grand but the infinitely small: thimble, spurs, plates, flower vases.

Love, how many roads to obtain a kiss.

At night I dream that you and I are two plants that grew together, roots entwined, and that you know the earth and the rain like my mouth, since we are made of earth and rain.

Don't leave me, even for an hour, because then the little drops of anguish will all run together, the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift into me, choking my lost heart.

I love you as one loves certain dark things.

I do not love you-except because I love you; I go from loving to not loving you, from waiting to not waiting for you my heart moves from the cold into the fire.

Oh love, rose made wet by mermaids and foams, fire that dances and climbs up the invisible stairs and awakens the blood in the tunnel of sleeplessness.

I stood on the balcony dark with mourning... hoping the earth would spread its wings in my uninhabited love.

Love is the mystery of water and a star.

Ah, love is a voyage with water and a star, in drowning air and squalls of precipitate bran; love is a war of lights in the lightning flashes, two bodies blasted in a single burst of honey.

Love is brief: forgetting lasts so long.

Bitter love, a violet with it's crown of thorns in a thicet of spiky passions, spear of sorrow, corolla of rage: how did you come to conquer my soul? What brought you?

O happy childhood! blessed youth! But once we know thy potent power; But once we live all careless free; No cross to mar our love-lit bower.

I say love, and the world populates itself with doves.

To love is to tilt with the lightning, two bodies routed by a single honey's sweet.