Love's all you need. Love's blind. Love comes but once. Love never dies.
Love enters through the kitchen and (per Hyde
and Ken) love flies.
Love grows where (whose?) Rosemary goes. Love hurts. Love's in the air.
Love's just around the corner, Love. Ain’t that love over there?
“Love kills,” sings Freddie Mercury. Alas: Love's Labour’s Lost.
Love makes the world go ‘round. Though rhymed a
lot, 'love's not by
Frost.
Love's old sweet song at twilight comes. Love's potion number? Nine.
Loves' qualities? One hundred forty four, each
one divine.
Love rhymes with 'dove' and ‘plenty of.’ Love's story? Told by Segal.
Love's often unrequited. (Some have wondered if love's legal.)
Love vigilantes' Iron & Wine with vocals by Sam Beam.
Love walks right in, claim George and Ira
Gershwin. (What a team!)
"Love X, Y...Z," exclaims Luke James. "It's all the love you'll need."
Still, one
thing’s sure: though true, though pure, love's rarely guaranteed.
Poet Poe pens nonsense verse. "Plus...phun," puns Uly, "I disburse." Its gamut runs from spam to worse. The po'sy posted...? Poe's diverse -- most, postcards from his universe, replies to grudges he must nurse. My summary...? Let me be terse: a mitzva, mostly. (Not a curse.)
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