Motivational Quotes

Couples are jigsaw puzzles that hang together by touching in just enough points. They're never total fits or misfits.

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

And you are to love those who are your aliens for you yourselves were aliens in Egypt. [Deuteronomy 10:19]

It is by loving and by being loved that one can come nearest to the soul of another.

To fall in love is to create a religion that has a fallible god.

Nothing is more beautiful than the love that has weathered the storms of life. The love of the young for the young, that is the beginning of life. But the love of the old for the old, that is the beginning of things longer.

Love is a conflict between reflexes and reflections.

In the end, I decide that the mark we've left on each other is the color and shape of love. That the unfinished business between us. Because love, love is never finished. It circles and circles, the memories out of order and not always complete.

The more one loves a mistress, the more one is ready to hate her.

As love without esteem is capricious and volatile; esteem without love is languid and cold.

Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin as self-neglecting.

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.

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

My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.

Falling in love consists merely in uncorking the imagination and bottling the common-sense.

In love, unlike most other passions, the recollection of what you have had and lost is always better than what you can hope for in the future.

Many a man has fallen in love with a girl in light so dim he would not have chosen a suit by it.

We don't always get to choose what we love.

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 is the affinity which links and draws together the elements of the world... Love, in fact, is the agent of universal synthesis.

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.

For one human being to love another; that is perhaps the most difficult of all our tasks, the ultimate, the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation.

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

Love is like quicksilver in the hand. Leave the fingers open and it stays. Clutch is, and it darts away.

In real love you want the other person's good. In romantic love, you want the other person.

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

People who are not in love fail to understand how an intelligent man can suffer because of a very ordinary woman. This is like being surprised that anyone should be stricken with cholera because of a creature so insignificant as the comma bacillus.

Love must be as much a light, as it is a flame.

We don't believe in rheumatism and true love until after the first attack.

One's first love is always perfect until one meets one's second love.

It is of practical value to learn to like yourself. Since you must spend so much time with yourself you might as well get some satisfaction out of the relationship.

We often speak of love when we really should be speaking of the drive to dominate or to master, so as to confirm ourselves as active agents, in control of our own destinies and worthy of respect from others.

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

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?

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

Love is blind, and lovers cannot see the pretty follies that themselves commit.

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

Self-love depressed becomes self-loathing.

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.

How sweet it is to love, and to be dissolved, and as it were to bathe myself in thy love.

Fantasy love is much better than reality love. Never doing it is very exciting. The most exciting attractions are between two opposites that never meet.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

Love without attachment is light.

We are shaped and fashioned by what we love.

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

Those who haven't loved somebody else, more than they love themselves haven't even begun to live

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.

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

When once estrangement has arisen between those who truly love each other, everything seems to widen the breach.

Love, all alike, no season knows, nor clime, nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.

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