Quotes About Relationships

Life is the continuous adjustment of internal relations to external relations.

The love we have in our youth is superficial compared to the love that an old man has for his old wife.

Man is woman's last domestic animal

Only a philosopher can be happy in marriage, and philosophers do not marry.

The father gets accustomed to descend to the level of his sons and to fear them, and the son to be on a level with his father, having no shame or fear of his parents…. The teacher fears and flatters his scholars, and the scholars despise their masters and tutors…. The old do not like to be thought morose and authoritative, and therefore they imitate the young….

when men are friends, justice is unnecessary; but when men are just, friendship is still a boon." "A friend is one soul in two bodies." Yet friendship implies few friends rather than many; "he who has many friends has no friend"; and "to be a friend to many people in the way of perfect friendship is impossible.

His wife does not dress for him, only when he has gone away and is no longer in her mind; he sees her in a disheveled negligee, while all through the day he meets women powdered and primped and curled, whose charming knees and inviting frocks and encouraging smiles and aphrodisiac perfumes leave him hovering hourly over the abysses of disloyalty.

God preserve me from my friends," he concluded; "I will take care of my enemies myself.

If I were dying when I should've, say in the late sixties, when I thought my head would explode with howling misery, when every time their father opened his fat mouth I thought I'd have to kill him, then – then I would've written the girls affectionate letters, telling them of my sadness, and how much I loved them, and how sorry I was to be leaving them. Too late. They're here, they're grown-up, they're crap, and so we'll bicker towards oblivion.

social networking is the new dinner conversation . 

I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow.

Opposition is true Friendship.

The bird a nest, the spider a web, man friendship.

Everything that lives, lives not alone, nor for itself.

Love seeketh not Itself to please Nor for itself hath any care, But for another gives its ease And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair.' So sung a little Clod of Clay Trodden with the cattle's feet, But a Pebble of the brook Warbled out these metres meet: 'Love seeketh only Self to please, To bind another to Its delight, Joys in another's loss of ease, And builds a Hell in Heaven's despite.

Love seeketh not Itself to please, Nor for itself hath any care; But for another gives its ease, And builds a Heaven in Hells despair. So sang a little Clod of Clay, Trodden with the cattle's feet; But a Pebble of the brook, Warbled out these metres meet. Love seeketh only Self to please, To bind another to Its delight: Joys in anothers loss of ease, And builds a Hell in Heavens despite. - The Clod and the Pebble

Never seek to tell thy love; Love that never told can be.

Love seeketh not itself to please, Nor for itself hath any care, But for another gives it ease, And builds a heaven in hell's despair. So sang a little clod of clay, Trodden with the cattle's feet, But a pebble of the brook Warbled out these metres meet: Love seeketh only Self to please, To bind another to its delight, Joys in another's loss of ease, And builds a hell in heaven's despite. THE CLOD AND THE PEBBLE

AÅŸk s?rf Kendini memnun etmeye uÄŸra??r, BaÅŸkas?n? Kendi keyfine kurban eder: BaÅŸkas?n?n rahat?n?n kaçmas?ndan zevk al?r, Ve Cennete raÄŸmen bir Cehennem kurar.

Love seeketh not Itself to please. Nor for itself hath any care; But for another gives its ease. And builds a Heaven in Hells despair. Love seeketh only Self to please, To bind another to Its delight; Joys in anothers loss of ease. And builds a Hell in Heavens despite.

We all possess, like it or not, the people we know, and are possessed by them in turn.

Is it possible to live reasonably without lying? Do lies form the natural foundation of all human relationships, the thread that stitches our individual selves together?

Looking over the beach and the ocean as the sun begins to drop down in the west, a strange sense of pride: pride in all I've done and lived through, proud to think of the thousands of people I've met and known and the few I've loved.

As I write this I feel that draining, hollowing helplessness that genuine love for another person produces in you. It's at these moments that we know we are going to die. Only with Freya, Stella and Gail. Only three. Better than none.