Motivational Quotes

The cure for all the ills and wrongs, the cares, the sorrows, and the crimes of humanity, all lie in that one word Love. It is the divine vitality that everywhere produces and restores life.

Love seeks no cause beyond itself and no fruit; it is its own fruit, its own enjoyment. I love because I love; I love in order that I may love.

Love must be as much a light, as it is a flame.

Love is life's end, but never ending. Love is life's wealth, never spent, but ever spending. Love's life's reward, rewarded in rewarding.

To love is to place our happiness in the happiness of another.

Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction.

The season of love is the carnival of egoism and it brings a touchstone to our natures.

Love is much nicer to be in than an automobile accident, a tight girdle, a higher tax bracket, or a holding pattern over Philadelphia.

One is very crazy when in love.

I cannot think well of a man who sports with any woman's feelings; and there may often be a great deal more suffered than a stander-by can judge of.

However it is debased or misinterpreted, love is a redemptive feature. To focus on one individual so that their desires become superior to yours is a very cleansing experience.

Great passions, my dear, don't exist: they're liars fantasies. What do exist are little loves that may last for a short or a longer while.

Love is not to be purchased, and affection has no price.

If love is the answer, could you please rephrase the question?

Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.

Love is like pi -- natural, irrational, and very important.

We were two and had but one heart between us.

Lovers are fools, but Nature makes them so.

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.

The greatest weakness of most humans is their hesitancy to tell others how much they love them while they're still alive.

Love, by its very nature, is unworldly, and it is for this reason rather than its rarity that it is not only apolitical but anti-political, perhaps the most powerful of all anti-political human forces.

We love in another's soul whatever of ourselves we can deposit in it; the greater the deposit, the greater the love.

Some relationships start with fights... But, usually only in romantic comedies. Life's not the movies.

Pity the selfishness of lovers: it is brief, a forlorn hope; it is impossible.

A heart is not judged by how much you love, but by how much you are loved, by others. (Wizard to the Tin Man)

What makes lovers never tire of one another is that they talk always about themselves.

Fantastic tyrant of the amorous heart. How hard thy yoke, how cruel thy dart. Those escape your anger who refuse your sway, and those are punished most, who most obey.

We don't always get to choose what we love.

Love is the delusion that one man or woman differs from another.

It is a beautiful trait in the lovers character, that they think no evil of the object loved.

Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.

Every man loves what he is good at.

The hottest love has the coldest end.

Never try to define love. Once defined love is confined. Once confined -- It dies.

Love is an emotion experienced by the many and enjoyed by the few.

When you recover or discover something that nourishes your soul and bring joy, care enough about yourself to make room for it in your life.

To love another person is to see the face of God. [Les Miserables]

Well, love is insanity. The ancient Greeks knew that. It is the taking over of a rational and lucid mind by delusion and self-destruction. You lose yourself, you have no power over yourself, you can't even think straight.

Who is wise in love, love most, say least.

I regard as a mortal sin not only the lying of the senses in matters of love, but also the illusion which the senses seek to create where love is only partial. I say, I believe, that one must love with all of one's being, or else live, come what may, a life of complete chastity.

Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own.

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.

The man who has never made a fool of himself in love will never be wise in love.

Do not keep the alabaster boxes of your love and tenderness sealed up until your friends are dead. Fill their lives with sweetness, speak cheering words while their ears can hear, and while their hearts can be thrilled and made happier by them. George

It is difficult to know at what moment love begins; it is less difficult to know that it has begun.

Love is a ocean of emotions entirely surrounded by expenses.

Today I begin to understand what love must be, if it exists. When we are parted, we each feel the lack of the other half of ourselves. We are incomplete like a book in two volumes of which the first has been lost. That is what I imagine love to be: incompleteness in absence.

Love is an ocean of emotions entirely surrounded by expenses.

Romantic love, in pornography as in life, is the mythic celebration of female negation. For a woman, love is defined as her willingness to submit to her own annihilation. The proof of love is that she is willing to be destroyed by the one whom she loves, for his sake. For the woman, love is always self-sacrifice, the sacrifice of identity, will, and bodily integrity, in order to fulfill and redeem the masculinity of her lover.

Love is the flower of life, and blossoms unexpectedly and without law, and must be plucked where it is found, and enjoyed for the brief hour of its duration.

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