Motivational Quotes

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

If I love you Wednesday, What is that to you? I do not love you Thursday -- so much is true.

The root of the matter the thing I mean is love, Christian love, or compassion. If you feel this, you have a motive for existence, a guide for action, a reason for courage, an imperative necessity for intellectual honesty.

People who are sensible about love are incapable of it.

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

Things base and vile, holding no quantity, love can transpose to form and dignity.

You can't blame gravity for falling in love.

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.

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?

Those whom true love has held, it will go on holding.

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

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.

The man who has never made a fool of himself in love will never be wise in love.

Teach only love for that is what you are.

Love is a serious mental disease.

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

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

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

A love affair with knowledge will never end in heartbreak.

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.

However it is debased or misinterpreted, love is a redemptive feature. To focus on one individual so that their desires become superior to yours is a very cleansing experience.

Do not wish to be anything except what you are.

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.

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.

Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boist'rous, and it pricks like a thorn.

For in the end, we will conserve only what we love. We will love only what we understand. We will understand only what we are taught.

Love is an ocean of emotions entirely surrounded by expenses.

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.

Love is the irresistible desire to be desired irresistibly.

Love is the immortal flow of energy that nourishes, extends and preserves. Its eternal goal is life.

In every question and every remark tossed back and forth between lovers who have not played out the last fugue, there is one question and it is this: Is there someone new?

But love is blind and lovers cannot see The pretty follies that themselves commit; For if they could, Cupid himself would blush To see me thus transformed to a boy.

Love alone could waken love.

Love is the only bow of life's dark cloud. It is the Morning and Evening Star. It shines upon the cradle of the babe, and sheds its radiance upon the quiet tomb. It is the Mother of Art, inspirer of poet, patriot, and philosopher. It is the air and light of every heart, builder of every home, kinder of every fire on every hearth, It was the first dream of immortality. It fills the world with melody. Love is the magician, the enchanter, that changes worthless things to joy, and makes right royal kings of common clay.

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

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.

Love is a given, hatred is acquired.

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.

Lovers are fools, but Nature makes them so.

If you cannot inspire a woman with love of you, fill her above the brim with love of herself; all that runs over will be yours.

Wicked men obey from fear; good men, from love.

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

I believe the greatest gift I can conceive of having from anyone is to be seen by them, heard by them, to be understood and touched by them.

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

If you say, I love you, then you have already fallen in love with language, which is already a form of break up and infidelity.

When you're a teenager and you're in love, it's obvious to everyone but you and the person you're in love with.

People are such great mysteries. Just when we think we have understood them, a wonderful new aspect shows in them.

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

I believe love produces a certain flowering of the whole personality which nothing else can achieve.

But I always think that the best way to know God is to love many things.

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