In honor of Valentine's Day, we've rounded up a few of our favorite quotes and poems about love. No matter what cute rhyming couplets Hallmark manages to come up with this year, we think these folks said it better than they ever could. Enjoy, and have a happy Valentine's Day!

Love does not consist of gazing at each other, but in looking together in the same direction. - Antoine De Saint-Exubery

There is no remedy for love but to love more. - Henry David Thoreau

Love seems the swiftest, but it is the slowest of all growths. No man or woman really knows what perfect love is until they have been married a quarter of a century. - Mark Twain

Love has no desire but to fulfill itself.  To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.  To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving.  - Kahlil Gibran

True love is when you put someone on a pedestal, and they fall - but you are there to catch them.  - Author Unknown

You really shouldn't say "I love you" unless you mean it.  But if you mean it, you should say it a lot.  People forget.  - Author unknown, attributed to an 8-year-old named Jessica

Sonnet XVII

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms,
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers.
Thanks to your love a certain fragrance,
risen darkly from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride,
so I love you because I know no other way than this:
where "I" does not exist, nor "you,"
So close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
So close that your eyes close and I fall asleep.

-Pablo Neruda (from 100 Love Sonnets)

[somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond]

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me,i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain, has such small hands

-e.e. cummings (from Complete Poems 1904-1962)