Motivational Quotes

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.

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.

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

The only victory over love is flight.

I adore him I have never been so happy. I have real love.

Where both deliberate, the love is slight: Who ever lov'd, that lov'd not at first sight?

One can be a soldier without dying, and a lover without sighing.

Love is a perky elf dancing a merry little jig and then suddenly he turns on you with a miniature machine gun.

He who falls in love with himself will have no rivals.

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

It is not love that should be depicted as blind, but self-love.

The advantage of love at first sight is that it delays a second sight.

Love feels no burden, regards not labors, strives toward more than it attains, argues not of impossibility, since it believes that it may and can do all things. Therefore it avails for all things, and fulfils and accomplishes much where one not a lover falls and lies helpless.

Can there be a love which does not make demands on its object?

Love bears it out even to the edge of doom.

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

Love begins at home, and it is not how much we do... but how much love we put in that action.

I donÆt think anyone can DO anything that would make him worthy of love. Love is a gift and cannot be earned. It can only be given.

Every man needs two women, a quiet home-maker, and a thrilling nymph.

An act of love that fails is just as much a part of the divine life as an act of love that succeeds, for love is measured by fullness, not by reception.

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.

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

Love touched her heart, and lo! It beats high, and burns with such brave hearts.

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

Love possesses not nor will it be possessed, for love is sufficient unto love.

It is a beautiful trait in the lovers character, that they think no evil of the object loved.

There is a voice inside which speaks and says: This is the real me!

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.

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

Love is as much of an object as an obsession, everybody wants it, everybody seeks it, but few ever achieve it, those who do will cherish it, be lost in it, and among all, never... never forget it.

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.

Before I met my husband, I'd never fallen in love, though I'd stepped in it a few times.

True love makes the thought of death frequent, easy, without terrors; it merely becomes the standard of comparison, the price one would pay for many things.

The ostentation of our love, which, left unshown, is often left unloved.

If a woman doesn't chase a man a little, she doesn't love him.

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

The greatest gift that you can give to others is the gift of unconditional love and acceptance.

What's so remarkable about Love at first sight? It's when people have been looking at each other for years that it becomes remarkable.

Self-love for ever creeps out, like a snake, to sting anything which happens to stumble upon it.

You talk too much, you laugh too loud, that's the price of love.

I argue thee that love is life. And life hath immortality.

You can't buy love, but you can pay heavily for it.

People who do not love themselves can adore others, because adoration is making someone else big and ourselves small. They can desire others, because desire comes out of a sense of inner incompleteness, which demands to be filled. But they can not love others, because love is an affirmation of the living growing being in all of us. If you don't have it, you can't give it.

Human Love... It is that extra creation that stands hurt and baffled at the place of death. Being human, wanting children and sunlight and breath to go on, forever.

Love ceases to be a pleasure, when it ceases to be a secret.

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.

I love Mickey Mouse more than any woman I have ever known.

When one is in love, one always begins by deceiving one's self, and one always ends by deceiving others. That is what the world calls a romance.

Love is not altogether a delirium, yet it has many points in common therewith.

We can only learn to love by loving.

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