Quotes About Acceptance

Hate, hatred for yourself, for other people, will confine you, but love can set you free.

Forgiveness is a little thing when love is there.

What matters is like, spreading love.

Tolerance is a very dull virtue. It is boring. Unlike love, it has always had a bad press. It is negative. It merely means putting up with people, being able to stand things.

Someone loves us all.

It's nice when people love you....for you.

It is a fundamental right for people to be allowed to love who they want to love and marry who they want to marry and stop holding on to some form of discrimination that it's just isn't fair.

Twenty can't be expected to tolerate sixty in all things, and sixty gets bored stiff with twenty's eternal love affairs.

Love is infinitely more endurable than hate.

It's a mistake to think that we have to be lovely to be loved by human beings or by God

Maybe part of loving is learning to let go.

The real meaning of detached love is to let others exist without forcing our will upon them. That is spiritual love.

When do you feel most loved? Are you willing to be loved today? Self-love is the magnet that attracts deep and profound expressions of love from others

Don't you ever worry about the future?" I asked. Jack shrugged. "This is the future," he said.

This is how it ends, he thinks. Strangely, he is not panicked, just a little bit sad. He tells himself to pay attention. If this is death it will only come once, and he doesn't want to miss anything. Like he did when he was alive.

I find that most people worth knowing are fucked up in some way or another.

The only way to stay sane is to stop hoping for something better.

I love Hailey and what we have works. Shes's beautiful, she's smart, she's a great mother, and she's heads above what I ever thought I could see in myself.

It's okay, Douglas." "It's not okay." "It's life, that's all. There are no happy endings, just happy days, happy moments. The only real ending is death, and trust me, no one dies happy. And the price of not dying is that things change all the time, and the only thing you can count on is that there's not a thing you can do about it.

He shakes his head and grimaces. "I need to get my own place, like, yesterday." "So why don't you?" He taps his head. "Brain injury. There are things I can't do." "Like what?" "Like remembering what the fuck it is I can't do." He opens the passenger door and throws himself down in the seat.

If I were an athlete I'd be past my prime. If I were a dog I'd be dead. Thirty . . . shit.

Pity, I've learned, is like a fart. You can tolerate your own, but you simply can't stand anyone else's.

Grief can be catered just like anything else.

You have to look at what you have right in front of you, at what it could be, and stop measuring it against what you've lost. I know this to be wise and true, just as I know that pretty much no one can do it.