The things we love destroy us every time, lad. Remember that.
Sometimes you cry, Susie, even when someone you love has been gone a long time.
It is better to lose your pride with someone you love rather than to lose that someone you love with your useless pride.
There’s always a moment when you start to fall out of love, whether it’s with a person or an idea or a cause, even if it’s one you only narrate to yourself years after the event: a tiny thing, a wrong word, a false note, which means that things can never be quite the same again.
Love demands expression. It will not stay still, stay silent, be good, be modest, be seen and not heard, no. It will break out in tongues of praise, the high note that smashes the glass and spills the liquid.
You know, all that really matters is that the people you love are happy and healthy. Everything else is just sprinkles on the sundae.
Life is like a sandwich!
Birth as one slice,
and death as the other.
What you put in-between
the slices is up to you.
Is your sandwich tasty or sour?
Allan Rufus.org
I guess the sacrifice of my dignity is the only thing that will save us now. The things I endure for love. The Fates laugh at my torment.
Daring to set boundaries is about having the courage to love ourselves, even when we risk disappointing others.
Love consists of not looking each other in the eye, but of looking outwardly in the same direction.
My mother used to tell me that when push comes to shove, you always know who to turn to. That being a family isn’t a social construct but an instinct.
His breath hitched, and he regarded me hungrily. “You’re playing with fire, you know that?”
“That’s weird, considering you’re an ice prin—” I didn’t get any further, as Ash leaned in and kissed me.
…and when one of them meets the other half, the actual half of himself, whether he be a lover of youth or a lover of another sort, the pair are lost in an amazement of love and friendship and intimacy and one will not be out of the other’s sight, as I may say, even for a moment…
He gripped her hard, forcing her to meet his eyes as he snarled, “I see you. I see every part of you. And I am not afraid.”
I will not be afraid.
A line in the burning brightness.
My name is Aelin Ashryver Galathynius . . .
And I will not be afraid.
As long as Man continues to be the ruthless destroyer of lower living beings, he will never know health or peace. For as long as men massacre animals, they will kill each other. Indeed, he who sows the seed of murder and pain cannot reap joy and love.
Sorrow is how we learn to love. Your heart isn’t breaking. It hurts because it’s getting larger. The larger it gets, the more love it holds.
The first time he’d held her hand, it felt so good that it crowded out all the bad things. It felt better than anything had ever hurt.
Sometimes it’s hard to be a woman giving all your love to just one man.
After all, my erstwhile dear,
My no longer cherished,
Need we say it was not love,
Just because it perished?
You don’t want to love – your eternal and abnormal craving is to be loved. You aren’t positive, you’re negative. You absorb, absorb, as if you must fill yourself up with love, because you’ve got a shortage somewhere.
A wedding anniversary is the celebration of love, trust, partnership, tolerance and tenacity. The order varies for any given year.
Love is friendship that has caught fire. It is quiet understanding, mutual confidence, sharing and forgiving. It is loyalty through good and bad times. It settles for less than perfection and makes allowances for human weaknesses.
I loved him as we always love for the first time; with idolatry and wild passion.
Phones are distracting. The internet is distracting.The way he looked at you? He wasn’t distracted. He was consumed.
Love possesses not nor will it be possessed, for love is sufficient unto love.
Try it again,” I said. “Kiss me.”
“No,” he said.
“Kiss me.”
“No,” And then he smiled. “You kiss me.”
I placed my hand on the back of his neck. I pulled him toward me. And kissed him. I kissed him. And I kissed him. And I kissed him. And I kissed him. And he kept kissing me back.
Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin, as self-neglecting.
A friend of mine once defined love as finding someone you can talk to late into the night
This is the greatest country under the sun. But we must not let our love of country, our patriotic loyalty, cause us to abate one whit in our protest against wrong and injustice.
Never trust people who don’t have something in their lives that they love beyond all reason.
And in the end, we were all just humans, drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness.
Si alguien me hubiera advetido de lo que dolía el amor, hubiera evitado enamorarme de ella. Pero, ¿a quién quería engañar? Era mentira. La habría amado igual.
I miss you.
I miss you. I miss you, I miss you.
Be ready, because when I see you, I’ll never let you go again.
I’m in love with you, and I’m not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things.
When we first met, I didn’t want to get involved with anyone. I didn’t have the time or energy, and I wasn’t sure that I was ready for it. But you were so good to me, and I got swept up in that. And little by little, I found myself falling in love with you.
I am the poet of the poor, because I was poor when I loved; since I could not give gifts, I gave words.
Accustom yourself continually to make many acts of love, for they enkindle and melt the soul.
Your competition is not other people but the time you kill, the ill will you create, the knowledge you neglect to learn, the connections you fail to build, the health you sacrifice along the path, your inability to generate ideas, the people around you who don’t support and love your efforts, and whatever god you curse for your bad luck.
Love in action is a harsh and dreadful thing compared to love in dreams.
If you love life, don’t waste time, for time is what life is made up of.
After all, a woman who doesn’t love cats is never going to be make a man happy.
Martin Luther King dedicated his life to love and to justice between fellow human beings. He died in the cause of that effort.
You smiled and talked to me of nothing and I felt that for this I had been waiting long.
Love is a rebellious bird,
that nobody can tame,
and you call him quite in vain,
if it suits him not to come.
The worst thing: to give yourself away in exchange for not enough love.
At the end as at the start, and through all the in-betweens, I love you.
A man when he is making up to anybody can be cordial and gallant and full of little attentions and altogether charming. But when a man is really in love he can’t help looking like a sheep.
You get use to someone—start to like them, even—and they leave. In the end, everyone leaves.
If I love you more than you love me, I’m as good as dead. Yet I can’t make myself take it back. I can’t just walk away from you, because every time you pass by me without smiling, without touching my hand, or at least making eye contact, it feels like I’m dying inside.
The sunlight claps the earth, and the moonbeams kiss the sea: what are all these kissings worth, if thou kiss not me?