Motivational Quotes

The magic of first love is our ignorance that it can never end.

To love is to receive a glimpse of heaven.

Love, Arthur, is a poodle's chance of attaining the infinite, and personally I have my pride.

I don't want to live -- I want to love first, and live incidentally.

Love, all alike, no season knows, nor clime, nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.

We love but once, for once only are we perfectly equipped for loving.

To love and be loved is the great happiness of existence.

When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love.

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

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

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

Love is something eternal; the aspect may change, but not the essence.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

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.

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.

Love is like quicksilver in the hand. Leave the fingers open and it stays. Clutch is, and it darts away.

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

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

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

In love, unlike most other passions, the recollection of what you have had and lost is always better than what you can hope for in the future.

A false enchantment can all too easily last a lifetime.

Love is the master key which opens the gates of happiness.

The pain of love is the pain of being alive. It is a perpetual wound.

A proof that experience is of no use, is that the end of one love does not prevent us from beginning another.

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.

When you're a teenager and you're in love, it's obvious to everyone but you and the person you're in love with.

Dive deep, O mind, dive deep in the ocean of God's beauty! If you descend to the uttermost depths, there you will find the gem of love.

Lovers are fools, but Nature makes them so.

Naturally, love's the most distant possibility.

When one is in love, one always begins by deceiving one's self, and one always ends by deceiving others. That is what the world calls a romance.

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

It's afterwards you realize that the feeling of happiness you had with a man didn't necessarily prove that you loved him.

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

Love is the immortal flow of energy that nourishes, extends and preserves. Its eternal goal is life.

Love means the body, the soul, the life, the entire being. We feel love as we feel the warmth of our blood, we breathe love as we breathe air, we hold it in ourselves as we hold our thoughts. Nothing more exists for us.

I hated her now with a hatred more fatal than indifference because it was the other side of love.

He who is in love is wise and is becoming wiser, sees newly every time he looks at the object beloved, drawing from it with his eyes and his mind those virtues which it possesses.

A life without love in it is like a heap of ashes upon a deserted hearth, with the fire dead, the laughter stilled and the light extinguished.

I was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them together again and tell myself that the mended whole was as good as new. What is broken is broken -- and I'd rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I lived.

When love begins to sicken and decay, it useth an enforced ceremony.

If that the world and love were young, And truth in every shepherd's tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move To live with thee and be thy love.

Perhaps the feelings that we experience when we are in love represent a normal state. Being in love shows a person who he should be.

He [Freud] often said three things were impossible to fulfill completely; healing, education, governing. He limited his goals in analytic treatment to brining the patient to the point where he could work for a living and learn to love.

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

I adore him I have never been so happy. I have real love.

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

Love... Force it and it disappears. You cannot will love, nor even control it. You can only guide its expression. It comes or it goes according to those qualities in life that invite it or deny its presence.

Oh, love is real enough; you will find it someday, but it has one archenemy -- and that is life.

Subdue your passion or it will subdue you.

Love is a given, hatred is acquired.

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