Motivational Quotes

Falling in love consists merely in uncorking the imagination and bottling the common-sense.

The best way to know God is to love many things.

The important thing was to love rather than to be loved.

I was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them together again and tell myself that the mended whole was as good as new. What is broken is broken -- and I'd rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I lived.

If love means that one person absorbs the other, then no real relationship exists any more. Love evaporates; there is nothing left to love. The integrity of self is gone.

What does love look like? It has the hands to help others. It has the feet to hasten to the poor and needy. It has eyes to see misery and want. It has the ears to hear the sighs and sorrows of men. That is what love looks like.

Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies.

Saddest Poem

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.

Write, for instance: The night is full of stars,
and the stars, blue, shiver in the distance.

The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

On nights like this, I held her in my arms. I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her.
How could I not have loved her large, still eyes?

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her.

To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass.

What does it matter that my love couldn't keep her.
The night is full of stars and she is not with me.

That's all. Far away, someone sings. Far away.
My soul is lost without her.

As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her.
My heart searches for her and she is not with me.

The same night that whitens the same trees.
We, we who were, we are the same no longer.

I no longer love her, true, but how much I loved her.
My voice searched the wind to touch her ear.

Someone else's. She will be someone else's. As she once
belonged to my kisses.
Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, true, but perhaps I love her.
Love is so short and oblivion so long.

Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,
my soul is lost without her.

Although this may be the last pain she causes me,
and this may be the last poem I write for her.

To always be loved one must ever be agreeable.

Love is not enough. It must be the foundation, the cornerstone - but not the complete structure. It is much too pliable, too yielding.

Love touched her heart, and lo! It beats high, and burns with such brave hearts.

And ruin'd love when it is built anew, Grows fairer than at first, more strong, far greater.

Alas, their love may be call'd appetite. No motion of the liver, but the palate.

Like the measles, love is most dangerous when it comes late in life.

Love is like quicksilver in the hand. Leave the fingers open and it stays. Clutch is, and it darts away.

A man in love mistakes a pimple for a dimple.

He is not a lover who does not love forever.

What I needed most was to love and to be loved, eager to be caught. Happily I wrapped those painful bonds around me; and sure enough, I would be lashed with the red-hot pokers or jealousy, by suspicions and fear, by burst of anger and quarrels.

Love is not enough. It must be the foundation, the cornerstone -- but not the complete structure. It is much too pliable, too yielding.

We are not commanded (or forbidden) to love our mates, our children, our friends, our country because such affections come naturally to us and are good in themselves, although we may corrupt them. We are commanded to love our neighbor because our natural attitude toward the other is one of either indifference or hostility.

Clenched Soul

We have lost even this twilight.
No one saw us this evening hand in hand
while the blue night dropped on the world.

I have seen from my window
the fiesta of sunset in the distant mountain tops.
Sometimes a piece of sun
burned like a coin in my hand.

I remembered you with my soul clenched
in that sadness of mine that you know.

Where were you then?
Who else was there?
Saying what?
Why will the whole of love come on me suddenly
when I am sad and feel you are far away?

The book fell that always closed at twilight
and my blue sweater rolled like a hurt dog at my feet.

Always, always you recede through the evenings
toward the twilight erasing statues.

There's always one who loves and one who lets himself be loved.

They do not love that do not show their love. The course of true love never did run smooth. Love is a familiar. Love is a devil. There is no evil angel but Love.

One is very crazy when in love.

To fall in love is easy, even to remain in it is not difficult; our human loneliness is cause enough. But is a hard quest worth making to find a comrade through whose steady presence one becomes steadily the person one desires to be.

I would rather live and love where death is king than have eternal life where love is not.

Love is what is left in a relationship after all the selfishness is taken out.

Love is the victim's response to the rapist.

We were two and had but one heart between us.

In love, as in gluttony, pleasure is a matter of the utmost precision.

By heaven, I do love: and it hath taught me to rhyme, and to be mekancholy.

Love may be blind, but it can sure find its way around in the dark!

Live for love. Without love, you don't live.

My mistress'eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lips'red... I love to hear her speak, yet well I know That music hath a far more pleasing sound.

The advantage of love at first sight is that it delays a second sight.

Man's love is of man's life a part; it is a woman's whole existence. In her first passion, a woman loves her lover, in all the others all she loves is love.

It is well to be happy and wise and well to be honest and true; it is well to be off with the old love, before you are on with the new.

Love is the master key which opens the gates of happiness.

By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. [John 13:35]

When a person is uncertain in love, there is nothing easier than for him to put one and one together and to make three out of them.

Mistresses are like books; if you pore upon them too much, they doze you and make you unfit for company; but if used discreetly, you are the fitter for conversation by em.

'Tis said of love that it sometimes goes, sometimes flies; runs with one, walks gravely with another; turns a third into ice, and sets a fourth in a flame: it wounds one, another it kills: like lightning it begins and ends in the same moment: it makes that fort yield at night which it besieged but in the morning; for there is no force able to resist it.

Learn what you are and be such.

You will always have to live with yourself, and it is to your best interest to see that you have good company -- a clean, pure, straight, honest, upright, generous, magnanimous companion.

True love grows by sacrifice and the more thoroughly the soul rejects natural satisfaction the stronger and more detached its tenderness becomes.

Some cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.

Go to the truth beyond the mind. Love is the bridge.

Perdition catch my soul, but I do love thee! and when I love thee not, Chaos is come again.

'Tis the most tender part of love, each other to forgive.

Real love stories never have endings.

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