Quotes About Relationships

Fig trees and fig wasps share an intimate cooperative relationship. The fig that you eat is not really a fruit. There is a tiny hole at the end, and if you go into this hole (you'd have to be as small as a fig wasp to do so, and they are minute: thankfully too small to notice when you eat a fig), you find hundreds of tiny flowers lining the walls. The fig is a dark indoor hothouse for flowers, an indoor pollination chamber. And the only agents that can do the pollinating are fig wasps.

We may find the attractions of a particular member of the opposite sex irresistible, even though the better judgment of our better self tells us that a liaison with that person is not in anyone's long-term interests.

Aceptamos alegremente que podemos amar a más de un niño, padre, hermano, profesor, amigo o mascota. Cuando pensamos en esto de esta forma, ¿no es positivamete extraña la total exclusividad que esperamos del amor conyugal?.

Even in apparently faithful monogamous species, the female may be wedded to a male's territory rather than to him personally.

The anthropologist Helen Fisher, in Why We Love, has beautifully expressed the insanity of romantic love, and how over-the-top it is compared with what might seem strictly necessary.

Strange is our situation here on Earth. Each of us comes for a short visit, not knowing why, yet sometimes seeming to divine a purpose. From the standpoint of daily life, however, there is one thing we do know: that man is here for the sake of other men – above all for those upon whose smiles and well-being our own happiness depends. ALBERT EINSTEIN

I'm falling for you, but I can't do this if your still hung up on a dead guy...you can still love him and love me, but you won't let yourself, Becca.

The more people I am with, Dorrigo thought, the more alone I feel.

Duty to his wife. Duty to his children. Duty to work, to committees, to charities. Duty to Lynette. Duty to the other women. It was exhausting. It demanded stamina. At times he amazed even himself.

As the cards fluttered to earth, as everyone's hand was revealed as worthless, as every point won was shown to be a pointless charade, she would tell them how wonderful this other man was, and how if she didn't see him for another thirty years she would still love him, how she would still love him if he was dead until she was dead too. But instead she watched as Harry Robertson played the right bower, and he and Keith, who always played as partners, won the hand.

She sometimes wondered, Francie continued, if parents' mistake was to make too much of their importance to their children, and their children repeat the same mistake.

But sometimes [love] was just there: ... he was ... shocked to know he had been lucky to live and know it, to love and be loved.

I just wanted to tell a story of love & it was about fish & it was about me & it was about everything

O amor é público, ou não é amor.

Without love, what was the world?

Love is public,... or it's not love. Love is shared with others or it dies.

What's friendship's realest measure? I'll tell you. The amount of precious time you'll squander on someone else's calamities and fuck-ups.

And what there is to learn from almost any human experience is that your own interests usually do not come first where other people are concerned--even the people who love you--and that is all right. It can be lived with.

Conversations with adults other than a person's parents had more of an outcome.

sharing the future with someone would certainly mean that repetitions had to be managed more skillfully.

Men are a strange breed.

Love, Henry remembered thinking then, was a lengthy series of insignificant questions whose answers you couldn't live without.

I'm not even certain I care to know. Some people were not made to have best friends, and I might be one. Walter might be another, though for different reasons. Acquaintanceship usually suffices for me, which was more or less the one important lesson learned from my Lebanese girlfriend, Selma Jassim, at Berkshire College, since if anything, she believed mutual confidences of almost any kind were just a lot of baloney.

We drove up onto the interstate and went toward Spokane, where I had lived once and Arlene had, too, though we didn't know each other then the old days, before marriage and children and divorce, before we met the lives we would eventually lead, and that we would be happy with or not.