In itself, homosexuality is as limiting as heterosexuality: the ideal should be to be capable of loving a woman or a man; either, a human being, without feeling fear, restraint, or obligation.
Blood of my Blood,” he whispered, “and bone of my bone. You carry me within ye, Claire, and ye canna leave me now, no matter what happens, You are mine, always, if ye will it or no, if ye want me or nay. Mine, and I wilna let ye go.
What greater thing is there for two human souls, than to feel that they are joined for life–to strengthen each other in all labor, to rest on each other in all sorrow, to minister to each other in all pain, to be one with each other in silent unspeakable memories at the moment of the last parting?
Love takes off the masks we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within.
Can officially confirm that the way to a man’s heart these days is not through beauty, food, sex, or alluringness of character, but merely the ability to seem not very interested in him.
Love is like a friendship caught on fire. In the beginning a flame, very pretty, often hot and fierce, but still only light and flickering. As love grows older, our hearts mature and our love becomes as coals, deep-burning and unquenchable.
Just because I’m not forever by your side doesn’t mean that’s not precisely where I want to be.
I am the most miserable person who ever lived,” he said… “You are young, and in love,” said Primus. “Every young man in your position is the most miserable young man who ever lived.
If you could only love enough, you could be the most powerful person in the world.
Statistically speaking, there is a 65 percent chance that the love of your life is having an affair. Be very suspicious.
Love is illogical, love had consequences–I did this to myself, and I should be able to take it.
Surely it was a good way to die, in the place of someone else, someone I loved.
The Queen’s Pride was his ship, and he loved her. (That was the way his sentences always went: It is raining today and I love you. My cold is better and I love you. Say hello to Horse and I love you. Like that.)
Sex without love is a meaningless experience, but as far as meaningless experiences go its pretty damn good.
Your naked body should only belong to those who fall in love with your naked soul.
Such short little lives our pets have to spend with us, and they spend most of it waiting for us to come home each day.
It is amazing how much love and laughter they bring into our lives and even how much closer we become with each other because of them.
So I placed my heart under lock and key
To take some time, and take care of me
But I turn around and you’re standing here
The only obsession everyone wants: ‘love.’ People think that in falling in love they make themselves whole? The Platonic union of souls? I think otherwise. I think you’re whole before you begin. And the love fractures you. You’re whole, and then you’re cracked open.
It’s one thing to fall in love. It’s another to feel someone else fall in love with you, and to feel a responsibility toward that love.
Did you think you could stop me? I’ll burn the world down to save her.
How do you know when it’s over?”
“Maybe when you feel more in love with your memories than with the person standing in front of you.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
Love’s about finding the one person who makes your heart complete. Who makes you a better person than you ever dreamed you could be. Its about looking in the eyes of your wife and knowing all the way to your bones that she’s simply the best person you’ve ever known.
Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats.
Do you want me to tell you something really subversive? Love is everything it’s cracked up to be. That’s why people are so cynical about it. It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. And the trouble is, if you don’t risk anything, you risk even more.
This is what happened in love. One of you cried a lot and then both of you grew sarcastic.
She hardly ever thought of him. He had worn a place for himself in some corner of her heart, as a sea shell, always boring against the rock, might do. The making of the place had been her pain. But now the shell was safely in the rock. It was lodged, and ground no longer.
He loved her, of course, but better than that, he chose her, day after day. Choice: that was the thing.
And I can fight only for something that I love, love only what I respect, and respect only what I at least know.
You were you,
and I was I;
we were two
before our time.
I was yours
before I knew,
and you have always
been mine too.
With you, intimacy colours my voice.
even ‘hello’ sounds like ‘come here’.
Late Fragment
And did you get what
you wanted from this life, even so?
I did.
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved, to feel myself
beloved on the earth.
In his forty-third year William Stoner learned what others, much younger, had learned before him: that the person one loves at first is not the person one loves at last, and that love is not an end but a process through which one person attempts to know another.
Then he made one last effort to search in his heart for the place where his affection had rotted away, and he could not find it.
Though lovers be lost, love shall not; And death shall have no dominion.
The future for me is already a thing of the past –
You were my first love and you will be my last
One day, when I am a braver man, I will tell her these things, and then I will look her in the eye tell her I love her and ask her to be only mine. But until that day, we’re just friends.
I find the best way to love someone is not to change them, but instead, help them reveal the greatest version of themselves.
I mean, at the end of the day, what the hell does it matter who I end up with if it can’t be you?
After all these years, I see that I was mistaken about Eve in the beginning; it is better to live outside the Garden with her than inside it without her.
I do my best thinking at night when everyone else is sleeping. No interruptions. No noise. I like the feeling of being awake when no one else is.
There is no intensity of love or feeling that does not involve the risk of crippling hurt. It is a duty to take this risk, to love and feel without defense or reserve.
To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering one must not love. But then one suffers from not loving. Therefore, to love is to suffer; not to love is to suffer; to suffer is to suffer. To be happy is to love. To be happy, then, is to suffer, but suffering makes one unhappy. Therefore, to be happy one must love or love to suffer or suffer from too much happiness.
In this part of the story I am the one who
dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
because I love you, Love, in fire and in blood.
Here’s something else to think about: calling when you say you’re going to is the very first brick in the house you are building of love and trust. If he can’t lay this one stupid brick down, you ain’t never gonna have a house baby, and it’s cold outside.
In secret we met –
In silence I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive.
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee? –
With silence and tears