Quotes About Devotion

I would never re-write you. You are by far my most complete and greatest novel.

I can't tell you how piercingly and endlessly I think about you.

and you wish to be a poet; and you wish to be a lover

Il gusto per i libri era nato presto in lui. Fanciullo, un paggio lo trovava talvolta a mezzanotte ancora intento a leggere. Gli toglievano il candelabro, ed egli allevava delle lucciole per sostituirlo. Gli toglievano le lucciole, ed egli per poco non metteva a fuoco la casa con una esca. Per dirla in nuce, lasciando al novelliere la cura di spianar le infinite pieghe della seta delle nostre anime, Orlando era un aristocratico malato d'amore per la letteratura.

It is only that I want to be with you and not with anybody else - but you would get bored if I go on saying this, only it comes back and back till it drips of my pen.

And she was mine, she was mine, the key was in my fist, my fist was in my pocket, she was mine.

And yet I adore him. I think he's quite crazy, and with no place or occupation in life, and far from happy, and philosophically irresponsible – and there is absolutely nobody like him.

I looked and looked at her, and knew as clearly as I know I am to die, that I loved her more than anything I had ever seen or imagined on earth, or hoped for anywhere else.

I adore you, mon petit, and would never allow him to hurt you, no matter how gently or madly.

To begin with, let us take the following motto...Literature is Love. Now we can continue.

I want you to leave your incidental Dick, and this awful hole, and come to live with me, and die with me, and everything with me.

There is only one real number: one. And love, apparently, is the best exponent of this singularity.

I love you, I'm waiting for you unbearably.

And I looked and looked at her, and knew as clearly as I know I am to die, that I loved her more than anything I had ever seen or imagined on earth, or hoped for anywhere else.

I'm walking out now into the soft light, the cooling him of evening, and I will love you tonight, and tomorrow, and still many more, so very many tomorrows.

She was my darling: difficult, morose - But still my darling.

She looked around, loosened her bra, and turned over on her stomach to give her back a chance to be feasted upon. She said she loved me. She sighed deeply.

He loved her in spite of her unlovableness. Armande had many trying, thought not necessarily rare, traits, all of which he accepted as absurd clues in a clever puzzle.

In spite of everything I love you, and will go on loving you–on my knees, with my shoulders drawn back, showing my heels to the headsman and straining my goose neck–even then. And afterwards–perhaps most of all afterwards–I shall love you, and one day we shall have a real, all-embracing explanation, and then perhaps we shall somehow fit together, you and I… we shall connect the points… and you and I shall form that unique design for which I yearn.

La miré y la miré, y supe con tanta certeza como que me he de morir, que la quería más que a nada imaginado o visto en la tierra, más que a nada anhelado en este mundo.

Kisses, my love, deep ones, to the point of fainting-

I adore you. I shall never love any- body in my life as I adore you, never and nowhere, neither in eternity, nor in terrenity, neither in Ladore, nor on Terra, where they say our souls go. But! But, my love, my Van, I'm physical, horribly physical

Light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul.

And now, said Ada, Van is going to stop being vulgar—I mean, stop forever! Because I had and have and shall always have only one beau, only one beast, only one sorrow, only one joy.