Love is a springtime plant that perfumes everything with its hope, even the ruins to which it clings. – Gustave Flaubert (1821–1880), letter to Louise Colet, 1846 October 7th, tr
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Love is a springtime plant that perfumes everything with its hope, even the ruins to which it clings. – Gustave Flaubert (1821–1880), letter to Louise Colet, 1846 October 7th, tr