I found Heidi's quote...

"Tell him yes,' she said. "Even if you are dying of fear, even if you are sorry later, because whatever you do, you will be sorry for the rest of your life if you say no."

....

The best marriage acceptance line ever:

'Very well, I will marry you if you promise not to make me eat eggplant.'

Love in the time of Cholera.

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.

For You Today

Of course there is a jackhammer. And a view, like Hopper,

but happier. Of course there is the newspaper—the daily

herald of our powerlessness. Easy go, easy come: thwash,

the next day another, an example of everything that gets done

in the dark. Like the initiative of the crocuses from a snow

that was, as it works out, warming them. Or in this case,

the strange October weather warming them. There were the

conclusions we jumped to. To which we jumped. There was

pain, and then there was suffering. Of course there was my

ambition to offer you the world, but one that I have rearranged

to make sense. Here are all the sensations of being alive

at the turn of the twenty-first century, here’s how they ring out

against each other, here’s how one brings out the sense of

another, here is the yellow next to the fathomless blue.

i carry your heart with me

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling)

                                                      i fear

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

Those who couldn't care less, who won't or can't fathom the honest depths of love and grief, who opt out of the bull-ride through life in favor of the sleeping berth. These are the ones that say it's ridiculous to imagine that the world could be a better place than it is. 

I fight that; I fight as if I were drowning. 

What I find is this, and so it has to be: conquering my own despair by doing what little I can.

Maybe it doesn't cost anything to hope, and those of us who do will be able to live better, more honest lives as believers than we could be cynics.

Kingsolver

It’s good to feel you are close to me in the night, love

It’s good to feel you are close to me in the night, love,

invisible in your sleep, intently nocturnal,

while I untangle my worries

as if they were twisted nets.

Withdrawn, your heart sails through dream,

but your body, relinquished so, breathes

seeking me without seeing me perfecting my dream

like a plant that seeds itself in the dark.

Rising, you will be that other, alive in the dawn,

but from the frontiers lost in the night,

from the presence and the absence where we meet ourselves,

something remains, drawing us into the light of life

as if the sign of the shadows had sealed

its secret creatures with flame.

‘My love, at the shutting of this door of night’

My love, at the shutting of this door of night

I ask of you, love, a journey through a dark pound:

shut out your dreams: enter with your sky my eyes:

stretch out in my blood as if in a wide river.

Goodbye, goodbye, cruel clarity that was dropped

into the bag of every day of the past:

goodbye to every gleam of clocks or oranges:

welcome oh shadow, periodic friend!

In this boat, or water, or death, or new life,

one more time we unite, slumbering, resurrected:

we are the marriage of the night in the blood.

I don’t know who lives or dies, sleeps or wakes,

but it is your heart that delivers,

to my chest, the gifts of the dawn.