Motivational Quotes

To love is to receive a glimpse of heaven.

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.

Love, while you are able to love.

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

One is very crazy when in love.

To love one child and to love all children, whether living or dead --somewhere these two loves come together. To love a no-good but humble punk and to love an honest man who believes himself to be an honest man --somewhere these, too, come together.

If love is shelter, I'm going to walk in the rain.

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

No three words have greater power than I Love You.

The desire for possession is insatiable, to such a point that it can survive even love itself. To love, therefore, is to sterilize the person one loves.

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.

At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet.

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

Great passions, my dear, don't exist: they're liars fantasies. What do exist are little loves that may last for a short or a longer while.

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

To love and be loved is the great happiness of existence.

Love is only the game that is not called on account of darkness.

You couldn't get a clue during the clue mating season in a field full of horny clues if you smeared your body with clue musk and did the clue mating dance.

Love is a given, hatred is acquired.

Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.

If you have it [Love], you don't need to have anything else, and if you don't have it, it doesn't matter much what else you have.

Learn what you are and be such.

Love is an emotion that is based on an opinion of women that is impossible for those who have had any experience with them.

When we understand that man is the only animal who must create meaning, who must open a wedge into neutral nature, we already understand the essence of love. Love is the problem of an animal who must find life, create a dialogue with nature in order to experience his own being.

The rose speaks of love silently, in a language known only to the heart.

A bizarre sensation pervades a relationship of pretense. No truth seems true. A simple morning's greeting and response appear loaded with innuendo and fraught with implications. Each nicety becomes more sterile and each withdrawal more permanent.

Love is an act of endless forgiveness, a tender look which becomes a habit.

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

What will not woman, gentle woman dare; when strong affection stirs her spirit up?

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

Love the giver more than the gift.

My love is strengthen'd, though more weak in seeming; I love not less, though less the show appear: That love is merchandised whose rich esteeming The owner's tongue doth publish every where.

Pity the selfishness of lovers: it is brief, a forlorn hope; it is impossible.

Above the cloud with its shadow is the star with its light. Above all things reverence thyself.

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

We only love truly once. It is the first time and succeeding passions are less uncontrolled.

Love (understood as the desire of good for another) is in fact so unnatural a phenomenon that it can scarcely repeat itself, the soul being unable to become virgin again and not having energy enough to cast itself out again into the ocean of another's soul.

If only the strength of the love that people feel when it is reciprocated could be as intense and obsessive as the love we feel when it is not; then marriages would be truly made in heaven.

O, then, what graces in my love do dwell, that he hath turn'd a heaven unto hell!

Nuptial love makes mankind; friendly love perfects it; but wanton love corrupts and debases it.

Love is what you've been through with somebody.

He who is not impatient is not in love.

You can't show love to someone at the expense of someone else who loves you.

Friendship is constant in all other things Save in the office and affairs of love: Therefore all hearts in love use their own tongues; Let every eye negotiate for itself, And trust no agent.

When love begins to sicken and decay, it useth an enforced ceremony.

Do everything with so much love in your heart that you would never want to do it any other way.

Nothing takes the taste out of peanut butter quite like unrequited love.

I do not think that what is called Love at first sight is so great an absurdity as it is sometimes imagined to be. We generally make up our minds beforehand to the sort of person we should like, grave or gay, black, brown, or fair; with golden tresses or raven locks; -- and when we meet with a complete example of the qualities we admire, the bargain is soon struck.

There are no guarantees. From the viewpoint of fear, none are strong enough. From the viewpoint of love, none are necessary.

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

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