Quotes About Love

What she knows now is that no one is ever through with love. No one ever should be.

His mother said, Oh, it's miserable to love, Johnny, I'm sorry to tell you so. Miserable for me, anyway, because I feel it too hard. And what happens then? What do you think? You go from the lovely direct to the pain - you can't help it.

The heart is a small muscle with tremendous strength;

Lincoln sits on the chair and removes his shoes. Then he climbs in bed beside his mother, who does not respond. Jason hopes no one comes in and tells Lincoln to get off the bed. Because he would have to kill that person. He sits in the chair and watches as Lincoln touches his mother's hand, then holds it. The puppy has a name, he tells her. Nothing. Lincoln moves closer to Abby and closes his eyes.

I'll love you forever in darkness and sun, I'll love you past when my whole sweet life is done

emotions that fuel love are ageless; they live in our heart, and therefore operate independently of our bodies.

No. Real love isn't like that. My dad says real love is when the other person is your best friend and you shouldn't have to work hard around them, it should be, like, more natural, and you just want to be with them even if you're not doing anything.

You have so much love to give! But I feel like you're all the time digging in the tomato bin, saying, 'Where are the apples?' 

Elizabeth Berg

Well, you just don't seem very...proud of me. He started to say that he was, but she interrupted him, saying, Don't. It's like my saying you never say you love me, and your saying it then. It doesn't matter, then. It doesn't count.

I stood looking at it, and a thousand things occurred to me about the way that even in bitterness and confusion and anger, my parents love for each other endured. I saw that when I was looking at them, I was only seeing the tip of the iceberg. They belonged to each other more that they belonged to us.

Let others bring knowledge of anatomy and physiology, of pharmacology and statistics. What Lainey brings to her husband is faith. Hope. And an abiding love.

How come you can't give with both hands, Mom? How come you have to give with one and take away with the other?

that's it. That's what you need to do in your marriage. You need to give what you want. And don't expect so much. That only sets you up for disappointment. If you expect anything, expect that marriage will be hard, that it will be work. And expect that the pleasures will be erratic and often small, but they'll turn out to mean more than you know.

bound to, and the ties to such families live in our hearts.

Love does not have legs," he slowly read, his finger moving along. "It does not have arms. But it move mountains." He put the paper down at his side

loved that he wasn't afraid of my mother, that he seemed to see past everything and acknowledge her as a person. It was a rare thing. Brooks had gotten all excited and said yes, that was right, he'd thought about that himself, he'd get to work on a design for it at the store tomorrow.

Love begins as a rhapsody and ends as a dirge.

Because my mother is a third base.

You know your parents are going to die, but they are going to die later. They are going to die sometime. But that time will not come until you no longer need them. While you still need them, or might need them, they will have the good taste and

no one is ever through with love. No one ever should be.

big love, it's like a powerful blanket, laid down on your land, warming you and protecting you. Something like that. I get out my poetry notebook. History can wait. Today two kids fell asleep in Mr. Spurlock's class and he didn't even notice until one started snoring.

The dishes we ate from were not translucent china but, rather, the heavy white plates common in less expensive cafés. Still, the food served on them was prepared by my mother, and I believed then, as I do now, that it makes a difference in taste when one's thoughts and feelings and hands are employed in what one serves.

He wanted to be the guy standing in the dimness by their kids' beds as Nola kissed them, and then he would kiss them, too. "Night," he'd say. Why did that single word offer so much comfort? He guessed it was because it said so much. Home. Safety. The prospect of another day together as soon as morning came. He wanted to walk down the stairs to the living room afterward, and sit with Nola in the lamplight and talk.