Motivational Quotes

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

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.

Love (understood as the desire of good for another) is in fact so unnatural a phenomenon that it can scarcely repeat itself, the soul being unable to become virgin again and not having energy enough to cast itself out again into the ocean of another's soul.

He who is not impatient is not in love.

It is here, my daughters, that love is to be found -- not hidden away in corners but in the midst of occasions of sin. And believe me, although we may more often fail and commit small lapses, our gain will be incomparably the greater.

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

There is love of course. And then there's life, its enemy.

They do not love that do not show their love. The course of true love never did run smooth. Love is a familiar. Love is a devil. There is no evil angel but Love.

Immature love says: I love you because I need you. Mature love says: I need you because I love you.

After the verb To Love...To Help is the most beautiful verb in the world.

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.

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

Love is everything it's cracked up to beàIt really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for.

I pay very little regard...to what any young person says on the subject of marriage. If they profess a disinclination for it, I only set it down that they have not yet seen the right person.

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

We are not commanded (or forbidden) to love our mates, our children, our friends, our country because such affections come naturally to us and are good in themselves, although we may corrupt them. We are commanded to love our neighbor because our natural attitude toward the other is one of either indifference or hostility.

It is difficult to know at what moment love begins; it is less difficult to know that it has begun.

Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song, A medley of extemporanea; And love is a thing that can never go wrong; And I am Marie of Romania.

If you have it [Love], you don't need to have anything else, and if you don't have it, it doesn't matter much what else you have.

We live in the world when we love it.

Think about a woman. Doesn't know you're thinking about her. Doesn't care you're thinking about her. Makes you think about her even more.

Oh, Jacques, we're used to each other, we're a pair of captive hawks caught in the same cage, and so we've grown used to each other. That's what passes for love at this dim, shadowy end of the Camino Real.

Love is not blind - it sees more, not less. But because it sees more, it is willing to see less.

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

Love is seeing without eyes, hearing without ears; hatred is nothing.

Accept yourself as you are. Otherwise you will never see opportunity. You will not feel free to move toward it; you will feel you are not deserving.

What is the main thing in love? to know and to hide. To know about the one you love and to hide that you love. At times the hiding (shame) overpowers the knowing (passion). The passion for the hidden -- the passion for the revealed.

He is not a lover who does not love forever.

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

I define love for our purpose as the passion of one being for another in the hope of being loved in return.

Many will detest you if you spend all your love on yourself.

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.

By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. [John 13:35]

Everything comes to us from others. To Be is to belong to someone.

One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life; that word is love.

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

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

Like the measles, love is most dangerous when it comes late in life.

True love is the parent of humility.

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.

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

To be among people one loves, that's sufficient; to dream, to speak to them, to be silent among them, to think of indifferent things; but among them, everything is equal.

No woman marries for money; they are all clever enough, before marrying a millionaire, to fall in love with him first.

I never loved another person the way I loved myself.

Such is the inconsistency of real love, that it is always awake to suspicion, however unreasonable; always requiring new assurances from the object of its interest.

The sweetest joy, the wildest woe is love.

There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.

When a man and a woman have an overwhelming passion for each other, it seems to me, in spite of such obstacles dividing them as parents or husband, that they belong to each other in the name of Nature, and are lovers by Divine right, in spite of human convention or the laws.

Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples: for I am sick of love. [The Song Of Solomon 2:5]

'Light fuse and get away'may work for a Roman candle, but not so much for the wrath of a woman scorned.

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