These pleasures of love which we tasted together were so sweet to me
that the memory cannot displease me nor can they be erased from y mind.
Whichever way I turn, they present themselves, they thrust themselves
upon my deceiving images do not spare even my sleep. In the solemnity
of the mass, when prayer should be purer than at any other time, the
licentious pictures of these pleasures so take this miserable heart that
I more occupied by their bareness than by prayer. I ought to groan for
the faults I have committed, and I sigh only after those which I can no
more commit.

It is not only that which we have done, it is the hours, it is the places
which have witnessed what we have done, which are so deeply graven on my
heart with thy image, that I find myself again with thee in the same places,
during the same hours, doing the same things: even asleep I find no repose.
Sometimes the movements of my body betray the thoughts in my soul, words
escape me which I cannot keep back.

- Heloise, a French nun
to Peter Abelard, philosopher


Cupid and my Campaspe played
At cards for kisses; Cupid paid.
He stakes his quiver, bow, and arrows,
His mother's doves and team of sparrows,
Loses them too; then down he throw
The coral of his lip, the rose
Growing on's cheek (but none knows how),

With these the crystal of his brow,
And then the dimple of his chin:
All these did my Campaspe win.
At last he set her both his eyes;
She won, and Cupid blind did rise.
Oh Love! has she done this to thee?
What shall, alas, become of me?
John Lyly

Against this thorny Present shows
Your memory like the dew;
Each Maid a wrinkled goes,
When I do think of you.
Folded away in the deep grass,
What is it can befall?
Nor Clouds that fade, nor Gusts that pass,
Nor any Grief at all.
Now write their verses brave;
Now buds start on the tree;
But went with you to the grave,
The sere leaf biddes with me.
I have not any words save this;
My tears are all my store;
The fairer that the weather is
I miss you but the more.

- Lizette Woodward Reese


The heart has its reasons which
reason knows nothing of.
- Pacal

Sealed with Love and Kisses
Greeting Cards