Motivational Quotes

The way of peace is the way of love. Love is the greatest power on earth. It conquers all things.

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

Take away love and our earth is a tomb.

Nothing takes the taste out of peanut butter quite like unrequited love.

One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life; that word is love.

He that loveth not knoweth not God; for God is love. [I John]

Could you imagine how horrible things would be if we always told others how we felt? Life would be intolerably bearable.

It is easy to halve the potato where there is love.

Love, love, love -- all the wretched cant of it, masking egotism, lust, masochism, fantasy under a mythology of sentimental postures, a welter of self-induced miseries and joys, blinding and masking the essential personalities in the frozen gestures of courtship, in the kissing and the dating and the desire, the compliments and the quarrels which vivify its barrenness.

Love is a gift from God, and as we obey His laws and genuinely learn to serve others, we develop God's love in our lives. Love of God is the means of unlocking divine powers which help us to live worthily and to overcome the world.

If I place love above everything, it is because for me it is the most desperate, the most despairing state of affairs imaginable.

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

Sure I love Goldie. How could you not love Goldie? Everyone loves Goldie. I love her, and I hope our love will continue, but I don't want to give an I-love-Goldie-Hawn interview.

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.

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.

Love the giver more than the gift.

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

Don't worry about growing older or pleasing others. Please yourself.

Is it not by love alone that we succeed in penetrating to the very essence of being?

I will wear my heart upon my sleeve for daws to peck at.

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

Love is the only bow of life's dark cloud. It is the Morning and Evening Star. It shines upon the cradle of the babe, and sheds its radiance upon the quiet tomb. It is the Mother of Art, inspirer of poet, patriot, and philosopher. It is the air and light of every heart, builder of every home, kinder of every fire on every hearth, It was the first dream of immortality. It fills the world with melody. Love is the magician, the enchanter, that changes worthless things to joy, and makes right royal kings of common clay.

In every question and every remark tossed back and forth between lovers who have not played out the last fugue, there is one question and it is this: Is there someone new?

Parrots, tortoises and redwoods live a longer life than men do; Men a longer life than dogs do; Dogs a longer life than love does.

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 thrives not in the heart that shadows dreadeth.

The richest love is that which submits to the arbitration of time.

If you aren't good at loving yourself, you will have a difficult time loving anyone, since you'll resent the time and energy you give another person that you aren't even giving to yourself.

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

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

The snow goose need not bathe to make itself white. Neither need you do anything but be yourself.

Is your love for the Lord sufficient to give all your time and talents to his work?

Can there be a love which does not make demands on its object?

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

Subdue your passion or it will subdue you.

We were two and had but one heart between us.

As love without esteem is capricious and volatile; esteem without love is languid and cold.

Love is a spendthrift, leaves it arithmetic at home, is always in the red.

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.

One does not fall in love; one grows into love, and love grows in him.

She cannot love, nor take no shape nor project or affection, she is so self-endeared.

To love one person with a private love is poor and miserable: to love all is glorious.

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

A heart that loves is always young.

Life is the flower for which love is the honey.

Love is not love until love's vulnerable.

Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song, A medley of extemporanea; And love is a thing that can never go wrong; And I am Marie of Romania.

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

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.

You will find, as you look back upon your life, that the moments when you really lived are the moments when you have done things in the spirit of love.

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