Motivational Quotes

Love is a serious mental disease.

Oh, Jacques, we're used to each other, we're a pair of captive hawks caught in the same cage, and so we've grown used to each other. That's what passes for love at this dim, shadowy end of the Camino Real.

Love yourself unconditionally, just as you love those closest to you despite their faults.

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

The way it actually works is the reverse. You must first be who you really are, then do what you need to do, in order to have what you want.

If that the world and love were young, And truth in every shepherd's tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move To live with thee and be thy love.

Love is the strange bewilderment that overtakes one person on account of another person.

Love is the delusion that one man or woman differs from another.

To love is to receive a glimpse of heaven.

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.

Love surfeits not, Lust like a glutton dies; Love is all truth, Lust full of forged lies.

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

We love but once, for once only are we perfectly equipped for loving.

This world is not for aye, nor'tis not strange That even our loves should with our fortunes change. For'tis a question left us yet to prove, Whether love lead fortune, or else fortune love.

Well-ordered self-love is right and natural.

I do not love you

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

that this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Perhaps the feelings that we experience when we are in love represent a normal state. Being in love shows a person who he should be.

Love is made by two people, in different kinds of solitude. It can be in a crowd, but in an oblivious crowd.

It has ever been since time began, and ever will be, till time lose breath, that love is a mood --no more --to man, and love to a woman is life or death.

We live in the world when we love it.

By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. [John 13:35]

Love is not to be purchased, and affection has no price.

Love is a state in which a man sees things most decidedly as they are not.

The idea that nations should love one another, or that business concerns or marketing boards should love one another, or that a man in Portugal should love a man in Peru of whom he has never heard --it is absurd, unreal, dangerous. The fact is we can only love what we know personally. And we cannot know much.

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.

True love grows by sacrifice and the more thoroughly the soul rejects natural satisfaction the stronger and more detached its tenderness becomes.

One does not fall in love; one grows into love, and love grows in him.

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.

Maybe kissing is sort of like nature's coffee.

When love is in excess it brings a man no honor nor worthiness.

If you could only love enough, you could be the most powerful person in the world.

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

The magic of first love is our ignorance that it can never end.

I am a big believer in the mirror test. All that matters is if you can look in the mirror and honestly tell the person you see there, that you've done your best.

Love is the irresistible desire to be desired irresistibly.

No cord nor cable can so forcibly draw, or hold so fast, as love can do with a twined thread.

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 all, trust a few. Do wrong to none.

We always come back to our first love.

It is easy to halve the potato where there is love.

We really have to understand the person we want to love. If our love is only a will to possess, it is not love. If we only think of ourselves, if we know only our own needs and ignore the needs of the other person, we cannot love.

And ruin'd love when it is built anew, Grows fairer than at first, more strong, far greater.

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

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

Love is, above all, the gift of oneself.

Everybody forgets the basic thing; people are not going to love you unless you love them.

Love is an ocean of emotions entirely surrounded by expenses.

The one who loves least controls the relationship.

When you feel good about yourself, others will feel good about you, too.

When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love.

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