Motivational Quotes

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.

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

Know that you are your greatest enemy, but also your greatest friend.

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

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

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

Love will find a way. Indifference will find an excuse.

Take away love and our earth is a tomb.

Where love is concerned, too much is not even enough.

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.

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

Love is inseparable from knowledge.

Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish it's source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of withering, of tarnishing.

I met in the street a very poor young man who was in love. His hat was old, his coat worn, his cloak was out at the elbows, the water passed through his shoes -- and the stars through his soul.

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?

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.

The way is not in the sky. The way is in the heart.

The enthusiasm of a woman's love is even beyond the biographer's.

Madame, it is an old word and each one takes it new and wears it out himself. It is a word that fills with meaning as a bladder with air and the meaning goes out of it as quickly. It may be punctured as a bladder is punctured and patched and blown up again and if you have not had it does not exist for you. All people talk of it, but those who have had it are marked by it, and I would not wish to speak of it further since of all things it is the most ridiculous to talk of and only fools go through it many times.

Love is the final end of the world's history, the Amen of the universe.

Love is not love until love's vulnerable.

The advantage of love at first sight is that it delays a second sight.

We love in another's soul whatever of ourselves we can deposit in it; the greater the deposit, the greater the love.

We are never so defenseless against suffering as when we love, never so forlornly unhappy as when we have lost our love object or its love.

Love works a different way in different minds, the fool it enlightens and the wise it blinds.

Love is an ocean of emotions entirely surrounded by expenses.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments: love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove : O, no! it is an ever fixed mark.

If they love they know not why, they hate upon no better ground, they hate upon no better a ground.

We are shaped and fashioned by what we love.

Self-love is the instrument of our preservation.

Love comes when manipulation stops; when you think more about the other person than about his or her reactions to you. When you dare to reveal yourself fully. When you dare to be vulnerable.

I like not only to be loved, but also to be told that I am loved. I am not sure that you are of the same kind. But the realm of silence is large enough beyond the grave. This is the world of literature and speech and I shall take leave to tell you that you are very dear.

What is the main thing in love? to know and to hide. To know about the one you love and to hide that you love. At times the hiding (shame) overpowers the knowing (passion). The passion for the hidden -- the passion for the revealed.

Whether life is worth living depends on whether there is love in life.

Love the art in yourself and not yourself in the art.

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

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

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.

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

Love is shown in your deeds, not in your words.

God loves each of us as if there were only one of us.

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.

Follow love and it will flee, flee love and it will follow.

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

I've only been in love with a beer bottle and a mirror.

Love is a perky elf dancing a merry little jig and then suddenly he turns on you with a miniature machine gun.

Never marry but for love; but see that thou lovest what is lovely.

If there is any country on earth where the course of true love may be expected to run smooth, it is America.

I don't want to live -- I want to love first, and live incidentally.

Love means never having to say you're sorry.

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