Absence is to love as wind is to fire: it extinguishes the little flame, it fans the big.
Absence Is To Love, What The Wind Is To Fire, When It's a Small Fire The Wind Kills It But When It's a Real Fire It Intensifies It
L'absence diminue les mediocres passions, et augmente les grandes,comme le vent eteint les bougies, et allume le feu. Absence diminishes commonplace passions, and increases great ones, as wind extinguishes candles and kindles fire.
Absence diminishes mediocre passions and increases great ones, as the wind extinguishes candles and fans fires.
Absence in love is like water upon fire; a little quickens, but much extinguishes it.
Wind feeds the fire, and wind extinguishes:
The flames are nourished by a gentle breeze,
Yet, if it stronger grows, they sink and die.
Enjoyment inflames love in some men, and extinguishes it in others: the wind that assists large vessels, upsets small ones.
The same wind that extinguishes a light can set a brazier on fire.
Absence abates a moderate passion and intensifies a great one - as the wind blows out a candle but fans fire into flame.
Darkness is the absence of light. Happiness is the absence of pain. Anger is the absence of joy. Jealousy is the absence of confidence. Love is the absence of doubt. Hate is the absence of peace. Fear is the absence of faith. Life is the absence of death.
Love lights more fire than hate extinguishes.
Love, in the eyes of the world, is either a carnal appetite or a vague fancy, which possession extinguishes or absence destroys. That is why it is commonly said, with a strange abuse of words, that passion does not endure.
Though jealousy be produced by love, as ashes are by fire, yet jealousy extinguishes love as ashes smother the flame.
A great man once wrote, "Absence diminishes small loves and increases great ones, as the wind blows out the candle and blows up the bonfire." If only I were as eloquent as Mr. de la Rochefoucauld...I miss you, I miss you, I miss you. And I want you. And I need your kiss. And your touch on my skin like a man needs water. Always.
Great Powers of falling wave and wind and windy fire,
With your harmonious choir
Encircle her I love and sing her into peace,
That my old care may cease.
What is honor compared to a woman's love? What is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms . . . or the memory of a brother's smile? Wind and words. Wind and words. We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy.