Share this sentence
— Edmund Spenser"My Love is like to ice, and I to fire: How comes it then that this her cold so great Is not dissolved through my so hot desire, But harder grows the more I her entreat?"
Related information
Discover more quotes
Previous Quote
It is not the passion of a mind struggling with misfortune, or the hopelessness of its desires, but of a mind preying on itself, and disgusted with, or indifferent to all other things.
— William Hazlitt
Next Quote
The greatest poverty is not to live In a physical world, to feel that one's desire Is too difficult to tell from despair.
— Wallace Stevens
Loading recommended content...