Motivational Quotes

Life's greatest happiness is to be convinced we are loved.

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

A healthy self-love means we have no compulsion to justify to ourselves or others why we take vacations, why we sleep late, why we buy new shoes, why we spoil ourselves from time to time. We feel comfortable doing things which add quality and beauty to life.

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

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.

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

The moment you have in your heart this extraordinary thing called love and feel the depth, the delight, the ecstasy of it, you will discover that for you the world is transform.

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

The truth is that there is only one terminal dignity -- love. And the story of a love is not important -- what is important is that one is capable of love. It is perhaps the only glimpse we are permitted of eternity.

Love is something eternal; the aspect may change, but not the essence.

I try to give to the poor people for love what the rich could get for money. No, I wouldn't touch a leper for a thousand pounds; yet I willingly cure him for the love of God.

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

Love cures people -- both the ones who give it and the ones who receive it.

Only the words of love kept alive are worthy of not being wasted

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.

In a separation it is the one who is not really in loved who says the more tender things.

In every loving woman there is a priestess of the past -- a pious guardian of some affection, of which the object has disappeared.

Love is all you need.

The important thing was to love rather than to be loved.

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

When you recover or discover something that nourishes your soul and bring joy, care enough about yourself to make room for it in your life.

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

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

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

Man's love is of man's life a part; it is a woman's whole existence. In her first passion, a woman loves her lover, in all the others all she loves is love.

Love talked about is easily turned aside, but love demonstrated is irresistible.

Is it not by love alone that we succeed in penetrating to the very essence of being?

True love is the parent of humility.

Learn what you are and be such.

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.

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.

Art is not necessary at all. All that is necessary to make this world a better place to live in is to love --to love as Christ loved, as Buddha loved.

Blue eyes say, Love me or I die; black eyes say, Love me or I kill thee.

We've got this gift of love, but love is like a precious plant. You can't just accept it and leave it in the cupboard or just think it's going to get on by itself. You've got to keep watering it. You've got to really look after it and nurture it.

Follow love and it will flee, flee love and it will follow.

Love is an emotion experienced by the many and enjoyed by the few.

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

We love because it's the only true adventure.

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

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.

When you love someone all your saved-up wishes start coming out.

The love of those we don't love in return settles on the surface and from there quickly evaporates.

LOVE, the feeling, is the fruit of LOVE, the verb.

Monkeys are superior to men in this: when a monkey looks into a mirror, he sees a monkey.

One seeks to make the loved one entirely happy, or, if that cannot be, entirely wretched.

The snow goose need not bathe to make itself white. Neither need you do anything but be yourself.

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.

I believe love is primarily a choice and only sometimes a feeling. If you want to feel love, choose to love and be patient.

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.

Life and love are life and love, a bunch of violets is a bunch of violets, and to drag in the idea of a point is to ruin everything. Live and let live, love and let love, flower and fade, and follow the natural curve, which flows on, pointless.

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