Motivational Quotes

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

Love is like a poisonous mushroom -- you don't know if it is the real thing until it is too late

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?

But the strong base and building of my love is as the very centre of the earth, drawing all things to it.

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

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.

My wife heard me say I love you a thousand times, but she never once heard me say sorry

Subdue your passion or it will subdue you.

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.

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

He who is not impatient is not in love.

If we really love ourselves, everything in our life works.

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 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.

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

Pity the selfishness of lovers: it is brief, a forlorn hope; it is impossible.

Love is the final end of the world's history, the Amen of the universe.

God loves each of us as if there were only one of us.

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.

Love makes the wildest spirit tame, and the tamest spirit wild.

Love is the direct opposite of hate. By definition it's something you can't feel for more than a few minutes at a time, so what's all this bullshit about loving somebody for the rest of your life?

Darkness can not drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.

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.

Some relationships start with fights... But, usually only in romantic comedies. Life's not the movies.

People love others not for who they are, but for how they make them feel.

We only love truly once. It is the first time and succeeding passions are less uncontrolled.

A false enchantment can all too easily last a lifetime.

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.

What power is it which mounts my love so high, that makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye?

There is no pain equal to that which two lovers can inflict on one another. This should be made clear to all who contemplate such a union. The avoidance of this pain is the beginning of wisdom, for it is strong enough to contaminate the rest of our lives.

A woman who could always love would never grow old; and the love of mother and wife would often give or preserve many charms if it were not too often combined with parental and conjugal anger. There remains in the face of women who are naturally serene and peaceful, and of those rendered so by religion, an after-spring, and later an after-summer, the reflex of their most beautiful bloom.

To be brave is to love someone unconditionally, without expecting anything in return. To just give. That takes courage, because we don't want to fall on our faces or leave ourselves open to hurt.

Love is often nothing but a favorable exchange between two people who get the most of what they can expect, considering their value on the personality market.

Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. [Roman 13:9]

You couldn't get a clue during the clue mating season in a field full of horny clues if you smeared your body with clue musk and did the clue mating dance.

Love wholeheartedly, be surprised, give thanks and praise then you will discover the fullness of your life.

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.

Love's best habit is a soothing tongue.

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

Love is a conflict between reflexes and reflections.

Love shall be our token; love be yours and love be mine.

Not all of us have to possess earthshaking talent. Just common sense and love will do.

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

We cannot avoid using power, cannot escape the compulsion to afflict the world, so let us, cautious in diction and mighty in contradiction, love powerfully.

I do not think that what is called Love at first sight is so great an absurdity as it is sometimes imagined to be. We generally make up our minds beforehand to the sort of person we should like, grave or gay, black, brown, or fair; with golden tresses or raven locks; -- and when we meet with a complete example of the qualities we admire, the bargain is soon struck.

Love was as subtly caught, as a disease; But being got it is a treasure sweet, which to defend is harder than to get: And ought not be profaned on either part, for though 'Tis got by chance,'Tis kept by art.

The greatest happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved, loved for ourselves, or rather loved in spite of ourselves.

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.

It is difficult to lay aside a confirmed passion.

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