582 Quotes by Pablo Neruda

Tonight I can write the saddest lines...Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer and these the last verses that I write for her.

I will bring you flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses. I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.

Two things make a story. The net and the air that falls through the net.

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.

She did not speak for speech was unknown to her.

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair....

But if each day, each hour, you feel that you are destined for me with implacable sweetness, if each day a flower climbs up to your lips to seek me, ah my love, ah my own, in me all that fire is repeated, in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, my love feeds on your love, beloved, and as long as you live it will be in your arms without leaving mine.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her. Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

When did the lemons learn the same creed as the sun?