Motivational Quotes

Love is blind, and lovers cannot see the pretty follies that themselves commit.

Age does not protect you from love. But love, to some extent, protects you from age.

When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes... Haply I think on thee, and then my state, Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate; For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed.

What the world really needs is more love and less paper work.

Learning to love yourself is the greatest love of all.

The enthusiasm of a woman's love is even beyond the biographer's.

But I always think that the best way to know God is to love many things.

I love you, not for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you.

Love means to love that which is unlovable; or it is no virtue at all.

Every man needs two women, a quiet home-maker, and a thrilling nymph.

When once estrangement has arisen between those who truly love each other, everything seems to widen the breach.

Lord, grant that I might not so much seek to be loved as to love.

Everything comes to us from others. To Be is to belong to someone.

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

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

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

Scratch a lover, and find a foe.

Love works a different way in different minds, the fool it enlightens and the wise it blinds.

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

Love yourself unconditionally, just as you love those closest to you despite their faults.

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

Do all things with love.

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

I argue thee that love is life. And life hath immortality.

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.

Be that self which one truly is.

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

One would always want to think of oneself as being on the side of love, ready to recognize it and wish it well --but, when confronted with it in others, one so often resented it, questioned its true nature, secretly dismissed the particular instance as folly or promiscuity. Was it merely jealousy, or a reluctance to admit so noble and enviable a sentiment in anyone but oneself?

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.

We are never so defenseless against suffering as when we love, never so forlornly unhappy as when we have lost our love object or its love.

My tears of love are a waste of time if I turn away

The value of love will always be stronger than the value of hate.. Any nation or group of nations which employs hatred eventually is torn to pieces by hatred...

Love is all you need.

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.

I never loved another person the way I loved myself.

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

Love, you are eternal like springtime.

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.

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

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

Things base and vile, holding no quantity, love can transpose to form and dignity.

Love will find a way. Indifference will find an excuse.

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.

Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. [Roman 13:9]

I believe love produces a certain flowering of the whole personality which nothing else can achieve.

Love thrives not in the heart that shadows dreadeth.

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.

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.

Many people when they fall in love look for a little haven of refuge from the world, where they can be sure of being admired when they are not admirable, and praised when they are not praiseworthy.

The wisdom of the wise, and the experience of ages, may be preserved by Motivational Quotes.