A Quote by Leo Robin

It's June in January Because I'm in love It always is spring in my heart with you in my arms. — © Leo Robin
It's June in January Because I'm in love It always is spring in my heart with you in my arms.
It's June in January because I'm in love.
There's something I love about how stark the contrast is between January and June in Sweden. In a way, I feel that time doesn't exist in LA. Sometimes I don't know if it's February or April or October, because you're always sitting outside on the same patio, and it's 70 degrees.
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 cold to fire. I love you only because it's you the one I love; I hate you deeply, and hating you Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you Is that I do not see you but love you blindly. Maybe January light will consume My heart with its cruel Ray, stealing my key to true calm. In this part of the story I am the one who Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you, Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.
Lots of people go mad in January. Not as many as in May, of course. Nor June. But January is your third most common month for madness.
There's something I love about how stark the contrast is between January and June in Sweden.
Look with your heart and not with your eyes. The heart understands. The heart never lies. Believe what it feels, and trust what it shows. Look with your heart; the heart always knows. Love is not always beautiful, not at the start. But open your arms, and close your eyes tight. Look with your heart and when it finds love, your heart will be right.
No other woman had that air of spring in January, that ever-bubbling fount of love and hope.
To read a poem in January is as lovely as to go for a walk in June
O months of blossoming, months of transfigurations, May without cloud and June stabbed to the heart, I shall not ever forget the lilacs or the roses Nor those the spring has kept folded away apart.
If your heart isn't yet illumined Be awake always, be a seeker of the heart, Be at war continually with your carnal soul. But if your heart is already awakened, Sleep peacefully, sleep in the arms of Love
I loved you when love was Spring, and May, Loved you when summer deepened into June, and now when autumn yellows all the leaves.
The Heart is a lonely hunter with only one desire! To find some lasting comfort in the arms of anothers fire...driven by a desperate hunger to the arms of a neon light, the heart is a lonely hunter when there's no sign of love in sight!
Flower god, god of the spring, beautiful, bountiful, Cold-dyed shield in the sky, lover of versicles, Here I wander in April Cold, grey-headed; and still to my Heart, Spring comes with a bound, Spring the deliverer, Spring, song-leader in woods, chorally resonant; Spring, flower-planter in meadows, Child-conductor in willowy Fields deep dotted with bloom, daisies and crocuses: Here that child from his heart drinks of eternity: O child, happy are children!
Love is always open arms. If you close your arms about love you will find that you are left holding only yourself.
God's love gives in such a way that it flows from a Father's heart, the well-spring of all good. The heart of the giver makes the gift dear and precious; as among ourselves we say of even a trifling gift, "It comes from a hand we love," and look not so much at the gift as at the heart.
Summer is a promissory note signed in June, its long days spent and gone before you know it, and due to be repaid next January.
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