Quotes About Love

If we possess narrative sympathy - enabling us to see the world from other's point of view - we cannot kill. If we do not, we cannot love.

I realized love won't obey our expectations, it's mystery is pure and absolute.

The beauty we love is very silent. It smiles softly to itself, but never speaks.

When I live with God in my heart, my future is to live in the Heart of God.

For ever has it been that Faith and Love allow us to see clearly what we cannot see by eyes alone.

There is no space between love and destiny

For ever has it been that Faith and Love allow us to see what we cannot see with eyes alone.

When you're in love it's the most glorious two and a half days of your life.

Even being alone it's better than sitting next to your lover and feeling lonely. - Celine

See. The whole concept of love is much more complex. Love's like God or something: It's everywhere...I see it, I feel it, but I don't know if another person is going to hand it to me.

Once you've caught a glimpse of the cosmos through the back doors of your church, it doesn't seem like such a big deal to suggest to a sweet young couple that they quit sleeping with other people.

But you have gone now, all of you that were so beautiful when you were quick with life. Yet not gone, for you are still a living truth inside my mind. So how are you dead, my brothers and sisters, and all of you , when you live with me as surely as I live with myself.

Dear little house that I have lived in, there is happiness you have seen, even before I was born. In you is my life, and all the people I have loved are a part of you, so to go out of you, and leave you, is to leave myself.

In that quietness they were speaking their own language, with their eyes, with the way they stood, with what they put into the air about them, each knowing what the other was saying, and having strength one from the other, for they had been learning through forty years of being together, and their minds were one.

There is a wholeness about a woman, of shape, and sound, and colour, and taste, and smell, a quietness that is her, that you will want to hold tightly to you, all, every little bit, without words, in peace, for jealousy for the things that escape the clumsiness of your arms. So you feel when you love. ...For her womaness is a blessing about her, and you are tender to put your hands upon her and kiss, not with lust, but with the joy of one returning to a lost one.

There is beautiful you are." "No," said Marged, between a sigh and a sob. "Yes," said Owen. "No," said Marged, not so certain. "Behold," Owen said, from Solomon. "thou art fair. Thou hast dove's eyes." "Dove's eyes are small." Marged said. "Yours are so big they are my whole world," said Owen.

The universe wraps everything up inside it, in the end," Kaneta said. "Life, death, grief, anger, sorrow, joy. There was no boundary, then, between the living and the dead. There was no boundary between the selves of the living. The thoughts and feelings of everyone who was there at that moment melted into one. That was the understanding I achieved at that time, and it was what made compassion possible, and love, in something like the Christian sense.

Oh, could you view the melodyOf every graceAnd music of her face,You'd drop a tear;Seeing more harmonyIn her bright eyeThan now you hear.

If I have freedom in my love, And in my soul am free, Angels alone that soar above, Enjoy such liberty.

Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind,That from the nunneryOf thy chaste breast and quiet mind,To war and arms I fly.

When I lie tangled in her hair,And fettered to her eye,The gods that wanton in the airKnow no such liberty.

If to be absent were to beAway from thee;Or that when I am gone,You and I were alone;Then, my Lucasta, might I cravePity from blust'ring wind, or swallowing wave.

Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage; Minds innocent and quiet take That for an hermitage; If I have freedom in my love And in my soul am free, Angels alone, that soar above, Enjoy such liberty.

To Lucasta, Going to the Wars Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind, That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As thou too shalt adore; I could not love thee, Dear, so much, Loved I not Honour more.