Motivational Quotes

Love is like a fruit. It may look good, but you shouldn't bite in it until it's ripe.

We really have to understand the person we want to love. If our love is only a will to possess, it is not love. If we only think of ourselves, if we know only our own needs and ignore the needs of the other person, we cannot love.

If we seek the pleasures of love, passion should be occasional, and common sense continual.

Love, by its very nature, is unworldly, and it is for this reason rather than its rarity that it is not only apolitical but anti-political, perhaps the most powerful of all anti-political human forces.

My God, these folks don't know how to love -- that's why they love so easily.

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

Love is a state in which a man sees things most decidedly as they are not.

Love is never lost. If not reciprocated, it will flow back and soften and purify the heart.

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

Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself. Love possesses not nor would it be possessed; For love is sufficient unto love.

There is only one happiness in life -- to love and to be loved.

To love a thing means wanting it to live.

No one worth possessing can be quite possessed.

People who are sensible about love are incapable of it.

I cannot think well of a man who sports with any woman's feelings; and there may often be a great deal more suffered than a stander-by can judge of.

To fall in love is easy, even to remain in it is not difficult; our human loneliness is cause enough. But is a hard quest worth making to find a comrade through whose steady presence one becomes steadily the person one desires to be.

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

You can't put a price tag on love, but you can on all its accessories.

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

Love is the emblem of eternity; it confounds all notion of time; effaces all memory of a beginning, all fear of an end.

At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet.

Love all that has been created by God, both the whole and every grain of sand. Love every leaf and every ray of light. Love the beasts and the birds, love the plants, love every separate fragment. If you love each fragment, you will understand the mystery of the whole resting in God.

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.

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

Scratch a lover, and find a foe.

You will always have to live with yourself, and it is to your best interest to see that you have good company -- a clean, pure, straight, honest, upright, generous, magnanimous companion.

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

People need loving the most when they deserve it the least.

Love is the irresistible desire to be desired irresistibly.

Never try to define love. Once defined love is confined. Once confined -- It dies.

Love is said to be blind, but I know some fellows in love who can see twice as much in their sweethearts as I do.

The more I think about it, the more I realize there is nothing more artistic that to love others.

Where love is concerned, too much is not even enough.

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

Love is not only something you feel. It's something you do.

One who has not only the four S's, which are required in every good lover, but even the whole alphabet; as for example... Agreeable, Bountiful, Constant, Dutiful, Easy, Faithful, Gallant, Honorable, Ingenious, Kind, Loyal, Mild, Noble, Officious, Prudent, Quiet, Rich, Secret, True, Valiant, Wise; the X indeed, is too harsh a letter to agree with him, but he is Young and Zealous.

Love is an act of endless forgiveness, a tender look which becomes a habit.

Perdition catch my soul, but I do love thee! and when I love thee not, Chaos is come again.

There's a lot to be said for self-delusionment when it comes to matters of the heart.

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

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

Love comes when manipulation stops; when you think more about the other person than about his or her reactions to you. When you dare to reveal yourself fully. When you dare to be vulnerable.

Love sought is good, but given unsought is better.

'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.

My mistress'eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lips'red... I love to hear her speak, yet well I know That music hath a far more pleasing sound.

Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead.

Love is or it ain't. Thin love ain't love at all.

Whenever you are confronted with an opponent. Conquer him with love.

I like not only to be loved, but also to be told that I am loved. I am not sure that you are of the same kind. But the realm of silence is large enough beyond the grave. This is the world of literature and speech and I shall take leave to tell you that you are very dear.

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.

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