“Then came a touch — soft and sweet as a rose-leaf pressed against his lips — and for one moment he remembered nothing — he was caught up like Homer's Paris in a cloud of gold, and knew not which was earth or heaven.”
More from Marie Corelli
“And Love, no matter how abused and maltreated, is a very patient god, and even while…”
“Love that keeps all the choir of lives in chime — Love that is blood within the veins of…”
“Still Love remained — a Love, chastened and sad, with drooping wings and somewhat doubting…”
“Is Love alone worth living for — worth dying for? Is it the only satisfying good we can…”