Motivational Quotes

In every loving woman there is a priestess of the past -- a pious guardian of some affection, of which the object has disappeared.

We love those who admire us, but not those whom we admire.

Love is not altogether a delirium, yet it has many points in common therewith.

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

Love comes when manipulation stops; when you think more about the other person than about his or her reactions to you. When you dare to reveal yourself fully. When you dare to be vulnerable.

The greatest gift that you can give to others is the gift of unconditional love and acceptance.

A man in love mistakes a pimple for a dimple.

It is easier to keep half a dozen lovers guessing than to keep one lover after he has stopped guessing.

When we are in love we seem to ourselves quite different from what we were before.

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

I pay very little regard...to what any young person says on the subject of marriage. If they profess a disinclination for it, I only set it down that they have not yet seen the right person.

To love one child and to love all children, whether living or dead --somewhere these two loves come together. To love a no-good but humble punk and to love an honest man who believes himself to be an honest man --somewhere these, too, come together.

Love is not only something you feel. It's something you do.

Some cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.

The love of liberty is the love of others; the love of power is the love of ourselves. We cannot force love.

If we discovered we only had five minutes left to say all we wanted to say, every telephone booth would be occupied by people telling other people that they loved them.

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

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.

Nothing is more beautiful than the love that has weathered the storms of life. The love of the young for the young, that is the beginning of life. But the love of the old for the old, that is the beginning of things longer.

In the end, I decide that the mark we've left on each other is the color and shape of love. That the unfinished business between us. Because love, love is never finished. It circles and circles, the memories out of order and not always complete.

We will invent new lullabies, new songs, new acts of love, we will cry over things we used to laugh and our new wisdom will bring tears to eyes of gentle creatures from other planets who were afraid of us till then and in the end a summer with wild winds and new friends will be.

Love without attachment is light.

One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life: That word is love.

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.

We love because it's the only true adventure.

That is the true season of love; when we believe that we alone can love, that no one could ever have loved as much before, and that no one will ever love in the same way again.

My love is strengthen'd, though more weak in seeming; I love not less, though less the show appear: That love is merchandised whose rich esteeming The owner's tongue doth publish every where.

For love... has two faces; one white, the other black; two bodies; one smooth, the other hairy. It has two hands, two feet, two tails, two, indeed, of every member and each one is the exact opposite of the other. Yet, so strictly are they joined together

Love is what we are born with. Fear is what we learn. The spiritual journey is the unlearning of fear and prejudices and the acceptance of love back in our hearts. Love is the essential reality and our purpose on earth. To be consciously aware of it, to experience love in ourselves and others, is the meaning of life. Meaning does not lie in things. Meaning lies in us.

Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart.

Without His love I can do nothing, with His love there is nothing I cannot do.

Yet each man kills the thing he loves from all let this be heard some does it with a bitter look some with a flattering word the coward does it with a kiss the brave man with the sword.

I leave before being left. I decide.

And this I pray, that your love may abound still more and more in real knowledge and all discernment. [Philippians 1:9]

In a great romance, each person plays a part the other really likes.

In a separation it is the one who is not really in loved who says the more tender things.

To love without role, without power plays, is revolution.

LOVE, the feeling, is the fruit of LOVE, the verb.

Every day I live I am more convinced that the waste of life lies in the love we have not given, the powers we have not used, the selfish prudence that will risk nothing and which, shirking pain, misses happiness as well.

Love's best habit is a soothing tongue.

Immature love says: I love you because I need you. Mature love says: I need you because I love you.

The best way will be to avoid each other without appearing to do so -- or if we jostle, at any rate not to bite.

What then in love can woman do? If we grow fond they shun us. And when we fly them, they pursue: But leave us when they've won us.

Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies.

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

If only I had a little humility, I'd be perfect.

We cannot avoid using power, cannot escape the compulsion to afflict the world, so let us, cautious in diction and mighty in contradiction, love powerfully.

If only the strength of the love that people feel when it is reciprocated could be as intense and obsessive as the love we feel when it is not; then marriages would be truly made in heaven.

Darkness can not drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.

We are nearer loving those who hate us than those who love us more than we wish.

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