I am not at all a romantic person, I hate flowers and candles... rather find it irritating.
I am going to notice the lights of the earth, the sun and the moon and the stars, the lights of our candles as we march, the lights with which spring teases us, the light that is already present.
I loved every second of Catholic church. I loved the sickly sweet rotting-pomegranate smells of the incense. I loved the overwrought altar, the birdbath of holy water, the votive candles; I loved that there was a poor box, the stations of the cross rendered in stained glass on the windows.
Rearranging furniture, adding some candles, or making even small tweaks can really make the difference.
You know you're getting old when the candles cost more than the cake.
I think people just think I am crazy because they see me doing stand-up, but I am generally not. I am very sad. I'm one of those guys that lights candles and listens to Rachmaninoff.
I'm obsessed with candles.
One of my greatest extravagances is smelly candles. I'm embarrassed to say, but I spend a disproportionate amount of money on candles. It adds up.
Some candles are $40, and you burn them for two days and they're done.
My guilty pleasure is listening to Enya in the bathtub. I do bubbles. I do essential oils. Candles, if they're around.