Motivational Quotes

You can't love anyone until you understand that you can't love everyone.

Love begins at home, and it is not how much we do... but how much love we put in that action.

There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.

What is love? It is the morning and the evening star.

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.

At the beginning and at the end of love, the two lovers are embarrassed to find themselves alone.

Is love supposed to last throughout all time, or is it like trains changing at random stops. If I loved her, how could I leave her? If I felt that way then, how come I don't feel anything now?

Love sought is good, but given unsought is better.

I met in the street a very poor young man who was in love. His hat was old, his coat worn, his cloak was out at the elbows, the water passed through his shoes -- and the stars through his soul.

Love consists not in feeling great things but in having great detachment and in suffering for the Beloved.

If any person wish to be idle, let them fall in love.

Real love is a permanently self-enlarging experience.

Love is most nearly itself when here and now cease to matter.

Love lacked a dwelling, and made him her place; And when in his fair parts she did abide, She was lodged and newly deified.

Love life and life will love you back. Love people and they will love you back.

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

Many a man has fallen in love with a girl in light so dim he would not have chosen a suit by it.

Pure love is a willingness to give without a thought of receiving anything in return.

Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples: for I am sick of love. [The Song Of Solomon 2:5]

One's first love is always perfect until one meets one's second love.

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

I always like a good math solution to any love problem.

Love thrives not in the heart that shadows dreadeth.

The way it actually works is the reverse. You must first be who you really are, then do what you need to do, in order to have what you want.

Two separate, distinct personalities, not separate at all, but inextricably bound, soul and body and mind, to each other, how did we get so far apart so fast?

Do everything with so much love in your heart that you would never want to do it any other way.

Love is stronger than violence.

There is a voice inside which speaks and says: This is the real me!

The truth is that there is only one terminal dignity -- love. And the story of a love is not important -- what is important is that one is capable of love. It is perhaps the only glimpse we are permitted of eternity.

Frustrated love has been the incentive for many great works.

A bizarre sensation pervades a relationship of pretense. No truth seems true. A simple morning's greeting and response appear loaded with innuendo and fraught with implications. Each nicety becomes more sterile and each withdrawal more permanent.

Do all things with love.

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

Who travels for love finds a thousand miles not longer than one.

Love is what you've been through with somebody.

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.

This is my commandment, that ye love one another. [Jesus, In John 15:12]

For aught that I could ever read, could ever hear by tale or history, the course of true love never did run smooth.

The only victory over love is flight.

All love that has not friendship for its base, is like a mansion built upon sand.

Love isn't a decision. It's a feeling. If we could decide who we loved, it would be much simpler, but much less magical.

Self-love seems so often unrequited.

Only the really plain people know about love --the very fascinating ones try so hard to create an impression that they very soon exhaust their talents.

In love, there is always one who kisses and one who offers the cheek.

Do you want to know a good way to fall in love? Just associate with all your pleasant experiences with someone, and disassociate from all the unpleasant ones.

Love is the river of life in the world.

The more connections you and your lover make, not just between your bodies, but between your minds, your hearts, and your souls, the more you will strengthen the fabric of your relationship, and the more real moments you will experience together.

The way to love anything is to realize that it might be lost.

When love begins to sicken and decay it uses an enforced ceremony. [Julius Caesar]

The hind that would be mated by the lion must die for love.

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