Motivational Quotes

Nowadays men cannot love seven night but they must have all their desires: that love may not endure by reason; for where they be soon accorded and hasty, heat soon it cooleth. Right so fareth love nowadays, soon hot soon cold: this is no stability. But the old love was not so.

A heart is not judged by how much you love, but by how much you are loved, by others. (Wizard to the Tin Man)

Love is life. All, everything that I understand, I understand only because I love. Everything is, everything exists, only because I love. Everything is united by it alone. Love is God, and to die means that I, a particle of love, shall return to the general and eternal source.

We can recognize the dawn and the decline of love by the uneasiness we feel when alone together.

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

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.

Do not keep the alabaster boxes of your love and tenderness sealed up until your friends are dead. Fill their lives with sweetness, speak cheering words while their ears can hear, and while their hearts can be thrilled and made happier by them. George

To be able to say how much love, is love but little.

I remember when I used to sit on hospital beds and hold people?s hands, people used to be shocked because they?d never seen this before. To me it was quite normal.

Everybody forgets the basic thing; people are not going to love you unless you love them.

A man can go from being a lover to being a stranger in three moves flat but a woman under the guise of friendship will engage in acts of duplicity which come to light very much later. There are different species of self-justification.

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.

Love is the cheapest of religions.

The love boat has crashed against the everyday.

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.

To love is to receive a glimpse of heaven.

The fickleness of the women I love is only equaled by the infernal constancy of the women who love me.

Love and pity and wish well to every soul in the world; dwell in love, and then you dwell in God.

How many cares one loses when one decides not to be something, but to be someone.

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

We are shaped and fashioned by what we love.

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

This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong, to love that well which thou must leave ere long.

Love ever gives. Forgives outlives. And ever stands with open hands. And while it lives, it gives. For this is love's prerogatives -- to give, and give, and give.

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.

Passion is seldom the end of any story, for it cannot long endure if it is not soon supplemented with true affection and mutual respect.

Self-love is the instrument of our preservation.

Only the words of love kept alive are worthy of not being wasted

To try to write love is to confront the muck of language: that region of hysteria where language is both too much and too little, excessive and impoverished.

People are such great mysteries. Just when we think we have understood them, a wonderful new aspect shows in them.

It was the men I deceived the most that I loved the most.

Even as one heat another heat expels, or as one nail by strength drives out another, so the remembrance of my former love is by a newer object quite forgotten.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments: love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds.

For where there is true love, a man is neither out of measure lifted up by prosperity, nor cast down by mishap; whether you give or take away from him, so long as he keeps his beloved, he has a spring of inward peace. Thus, even though thy outward man grieve, or weep downright, that may well be borne, if only thy inner man remain at peace, perfectly content with the will of God.

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

Love is the victim's response to the rapist.

I would rather live and love where death is king than have eternal life where love is not.

Self-love seems so often unrequited.

When you love someone all your saved-up wishes start coming out.

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

Falling out of love is chiefly a matter of forgetting how charming someone is.

Maybe kissing is sort of like nature's coffee.

Love alone could waken love.

The best way to know God is to love many things.

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

It has ever been since time began, and ever will be, till time lose breath, that love is a mood --no more --to man, and love to a woman is life or death.

Love is inseparable from knowledge.

Love is the flower of life, and blossoms unexpectedly and without law, and must be plucked where it is found, and enjoyed for the brief hour of its duration.

True love makes the thought of death frequent, easy, without terrors; it merely becomes the standard of comparison, the price one would pay for many things.

Once you have learned to love, You will have learned to live.

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