Motivational Quotes

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

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

Love makes everything that is heavy light.

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

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

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

Love and you shall be loved. All love is mathematically just, as much as the two sides of an algebraic equation.

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

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.

Someday, after mastering winds, waves, tides and gravity, we shall harness the energy of love; and for the second time in the history of the world, man will have discovered fire.

Two separate, distinct personalities, not separate at all, but inextricably bound, soul and body and mind, to each other, how did we get so far apart so fast?

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.

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

A lover, when he is admitted to cards, ought to be solemnly silent, and observe the motions of his mistress. He must laugh when she laughs, sigh when she sighs. In short, he should be the shadow of her mind. A lady, in the presence of her lover, should never want a looking-glass; as a beau, in the presence of his looking-glass, never wants a mistress.

I love a hand that meets my own with a grasp that causes some sensation.

Love is much nicer to be in than an automobile accident, a tight girdle, a higher tax bracket, or a holding pattern over Philadelphia.

'Tis said of love that it sometimes goes, sometimes flies; runs with one, walks gravely with another; turns a third into ice, and sets a fourth in a flame: it wounds one, another it kills: like lightning it begins and ends in the same moment: it makes that fort yield at night which it besieged but in the morning; for there is no force able to resist it.

If you were going to die soon and had only one phone call you could make, who would you call and what would you say? And why are you waiting?

Love alone could waken love.

What makes lovers never tire of one another is that they talk always about themselves.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments: love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove : O, no! it is an ever fixed mark.

How sweet it is to love, and to be dissolved, and as it were to bathe myself in thy love.

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.

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.

Love is a force more formidable than any other. It is invisible -- it cannot be seen or measured, yet it is powerful enough to transform you in a moment, and offer you more joy than any material possession could.

Self-love exaggerates our faults as well as our virtues.

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.

For one human being to love another; that is perhaps the most difficult of all our tasks, the ultimate, the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation.

By heaven, I do love: and it hath taught me to rhyme, and to be mekancholy.

My life is an indivisible whole, and all my attitudes run into one another; and they all have their rise in my insatiable love for mankind.

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

To an ordinary human being, love means nothing if it does not mean loving some people more than others.

Love feels no burden, regards not labors, strives toward more than it attains, argues not of impossibility, since it believes that it may and can do all things. Therefore it avails for all things, and fulfils and accomplishes much where one not a lover falls and lies helpless.

Love is like pi -- natural, irrational, and very important.

In love, as in gluttony, pleasure is a matter of the utmost precision.

Great passions, my dear, don't exist: they're liars fantasies. What do exist are little loves that may last for a short or a longer while.

To love is to receive a glimpse of heaven.

For aught that I could ever read, could ever hear by tale or history, the course of true love never did run smooth.

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.

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

The man who has never made a fool of himself in love will never be wise in love.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach.

This is my commandment, that ye love one another. [Jesus, In John 15:12]

The more connections you and your lover make, not just between your bodies, but between your minds, your hearts, and your souls, the more you will strengthen the fabric of your relationship, and the more real moments you will experience together.

Never pretend to a love which you do not actually feel, for love is not ours to command.

Love possesses not nor will it be possessed, for love is sufficient unto love.

The season of love is the carnival of egoism and it brings a touchstone to our natures.

The perversity of the human spirit is such that when a young lady longs for one specific partner, every other partner counts for nothing.

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.

We can only learn to love by loving.

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