Friendship, Roland realized, was its very own kind of love.
And no kinds of love are better than others
The kind of love that offers its life so easily, so stupidly, is always the love that is not returned.
I suppose even a woman's hatred is a kind of love.
Is there so much love in the world that we can afford to discriminate against any kind of love?
There are so many kinds of love, and they're all very intense for me.