Motivational Quotes

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

Self-love is the instrument of our preservation.

Love is a serious mental disease.

The love of liberty is the love of others; the love of power is the love of ourselves. We cannot force love.

I try to give to the poor people for love what the rich could get for money. No, I wouldn't touch a leper for a thousand pounds; yet I willingly cure him for the love of God.

Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs. Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers eyes. Being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers tears. What is it else? A madness most discreet, a choking gall and a preserving sweet.

Against love's fire fear's frost hath dissolution.

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.

Love is most nearly itself when here and now cease to matter.

If we discovered we only had five minutes left to say all we wanted to say, every telephone booth would be occupied by people telling other people that they loved them.

That is the true season of love; when we believe that we alone can love, that no one could ever have loved as much before, and that no one will ever love in the same way again.

We cannot avoid using power, cannot escape the compulsion to afflict the world, so let us, cautious in diction and mighty in contradiction, love powerfully.

Age does not protect you from love. But love, to some extent, protects you from age.

There are few people who are not ashamed of their love affairs when the infatuation is over.

What is love? It is the morning and the evening star.

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

Many people when they fall in love look for a little haven of refuge from the world, where they can be sure of being admired when they are not admirable, and praised when they are not praiseworthy.

Darkness can not drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.

Love is the only sane and satisfactory answer to the problem of human existence.

Love is an ocean of emotions entirely surrounded by expenses.

Love is a better teacher than duty.

You will find, as you look back upon your life, that the moments when you really lived are the moments when you have done things in the spirit of love.

How many cares one loses when one decides not to be something, but to be someone.

I never knew how to worship until I knew how to love.

Don't smother each other. No one can grow in the shade.

Love is inseparable from knowledge.

Everyone of us needs to show how much we care for each other and, in the process, care for ourselves.

Love is never lost. If not reciprocated, it will flow back and soften and purify the heart.

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

The love boat has crashed against the everyday.

Love is the last relay and ultimate outposts of eternity.

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.

Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.

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

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

Love lacked a dwelling, and made him her place; And when in his fair parts she did abide, She was lodged and newly deified.

He [Freud] often said three things were impossible to fulfill completely; healing, education, governing. He limited his goals in analytic treatment to brining the patient to the point where he could work for a living and learn to love.

But the strong base and building of my love is as the very centre of the earth, drawing all things to it.

Well-ordered self-love is right and natural.

Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.

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

What does love look like? It has the hands to help others. It has the feet to hasten to the poor and needy. It has eyes to see misery and want. It has the ears to hear the sighs and sorrows of men. That is what love looks like.

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 never reasons, but profusely gives; it gives like a thoughtless prodigal its all, and then trembles least it has done to little.

For love... has two faces; one white, the other black; two bodies; one smooth, the other hairy. It has two hands, two feet, two tails, two, indeed, of every member and each one is the exact opposite of the other. Yet, so strictly are they joined together

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

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

Where love rules, there is no will to power; where power predominates, there love is lacking. The one is the shadow of the other.

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.

It is at the edge of a petal that love waits.

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