Motivational Quotes

We will invent new lullabies, new songs, new acts of love, we will cry over things we used to laugh and our new wisdom will bring tears to eyes of gentle creatures from other planets who were afraid of us till then and in the end a summer with wild winds and new friends will be.

Lovers should also have their days off.

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

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.

When first we met we did not guess that Love would prove so hard a master.

If I place love above everything, it is because for me it is the most desperate, the most despairing state of affairs imaginable.

What is love? It is the morning and the evening star.

Infinite hungers leap no more I in the chance swaying of your dress; and love has changed to kindliness.

Self-love is the instrument of our preservation.

I love you, not for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you.

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

Let the lover be disgraceful, crazy, absent-minded. Someone sober will worry about events going badly. Let the lover be.

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.

True love means two seeds grow separately until they join in Matrimony forever.

If there is any country on earth where the course of true love may be expected to run smooth, it is America.

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

In this life we cannot do great things. We can only do small things with great love

Know the self to be sitting in the chariot, the body to be the chariot, the intellect the charioteer, and the mind the reins.

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.

You will find, as you look back upon your life, that the moments when you really lived are the moments when you have done things in the spirit of love.

Love conquers all; let us surrender to Love.

One would always want to think of oneself as being on the side of love, ready to recognize it and wish it well --but, when confronted with it in others, one so often resented it, questioned its true nature, secretly dismissed the particular instance as folly or promiscuity. Was it merely jealousy, or a reluctance to admit so noble and enviable a sentiment in anyone but oneself?

Love is a fire. But whether it is going to warm your hearth or burn down your house, you can never tell.

You can't love anyone until you understand that you can't love everyone.

Naturally, love's the most distant possibility.

The way to love anything is to realize that it might be lost.

Love is not the dying moan of a distant violin-it's the triumphant twang of a bedspring.

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

Let no one believe that he has received the divine kiss, if he knows the truth without loving it or loves it without understanding it. But blessed is that kiss whereby not only is God recognized but also the Father is loved; for there is never full knowledge without perfect love.

Love's best habit is a soothing tongue.

Love is a gift from God, and as we obey His laws and genuinely learn to serve others, we develop God's love in our lives. Love of God is the means of unlocking divine powers which help us to live worthily and to overcome the world.

We are all born for love. It is the principle of existence, and its only end.

Age does not protect you from love. But love, to some extent, protects you from age.

Love, I find, is like singing. Everybody can do enough to satisfy themselves, though it may not impress the neighbors as being very much.

Love isn't a decision. It's a feeling. If we could decide who we loved, it would be much simpler, but much less magical.

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

I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear.

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.

It is wrong to think that love comes from long companionship and persevering courtship. Love is the offspring of spiritual affinity and unless that affinity is created in a moment, it will not be created for years or even generations.

In the evening of life, we will be judged on love alone.

In love there are two things -- bodies and words.

Love lacked a dwelling, and made him her place; And when in his fair parts she did abide, She was lodged and newly deified.

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

Mistresses are like books; if you pore upon them too much, they doze you and make you unfit for company; but if used discreetly, you are the fitter for conversation by em.

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

Who travels for love finds a thousand miles not longer than one.

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

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.

Well, love is insanity. The ancient Greeks knew that. It is the taking over of a rational and lucid mind by delusion and self-destruction. You lose yourself, you have no power over yourself, you can't even think straight.

A man has only one escape from his old self: to see a different self in the mirror of some woman's eyes.

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