Quotes About Love

And then here I am back down, right beside the stone, my body rumpled, happy, crumpled as if it had just made love. Sun. Voices from above. I-330's smile.

Eu o s?rutam încet. S?rutam cuta aceea naiv?, plinu?? de la încheietura mâinii, ochii albaÈ™tri erau închiÈ™i, semiluna trandafirie începea s? înfloreasc? încet, s? se desfac? - È™i eu o s?rutam întreag?.

How can I tell you what that ancient, absurd, wonderful rite, when her lips touch mine, does to me? What formula can I use to express this whirlwind that sweeps everything out of my soul except her?

Seni korkutuyor çünkü senden güçlü. Nefret ediyorsun çünkü korkuyorsun. Seviyorsun çünkü iplerini eline alam?yorsun. Ä°nsan sadece köle edemediÄŸini sever.

el Estado Único dirigió su ataque contra el segundo dueño del mundo, contra el amor.

You can only love something that refuses to be mastered.

Le pope avait un chien, et après Dieu le fils, Il l'aimait plus que tout.

For death is exactly the most complete dissolution of the self in the universe. Hence: L=f (D), love is the function of death.

OvÅ¡em, je to jasné: chceme-li stanovit skute?nou hodnotu funkce, musíme ur?it její limitu. A je jasné, že limitou v?erejÅ¡ího hloupého "rozplynutí ve vesmíru" je smrt. Protože smrt je vlastnÄ› mé úplné rozplynutí ve vesmíru. Ozna?íme-li tedy lásku L a smrt S, bude L = f(S), tj. láska a smrt…

In England, I built ships, looked at ruined castles, listened to the thud of bombs dropped by German zeppelins, and wrote The Islanders. I regret that I did not see the February Revolution, and know only the October Revolution (I returned to Petersburg, past German submarines, in a ship with lights out, wearing a life belt the whole time, just in time for October). This is the same as never having been in love and waking up one morning already married for ten years or so.

You are afraid of it because it is stronger than you; you hate it because you are afraid of it; you love it because you cannot subdue it to your will. Only the unsubduable can be loved.

The most wonderful thing in life is to be delirious and the most wonderful kind of delirium is being in love. In the morning mist, hazy and amorous, London was delirious. London squinted as it floated along, milky pink, without caring where it was going.

And he needed to imagine that someone must love him, within these numberless houses, so that he could sleep, so that he could wake up.

But loneliness is as delusive a belief in the pertinence of the world as is love: in choosing to feel lonely, as in choosing to love, one carves a space next to oneself to be filled by others - a friend, a lover, a toy poodle, a violinist on the radio.

She wonders if this is what people call falling in love, the desire to be with someone for every minute of the rest of her life so strong that sometimes she is frightened of herself.

The real story was beyond our ability to tell: our girlhood, our friendship, our love—all monumental, all inconsequential. The world had no place for two girls like us, though I was slow then, not knowing that Fabienne, slighted, thwarted, even fatally wounded, tried to make a fool of that world, on her and on my behalf. Revenge is a story that often begins with more promises than the ending can offer.

The happiness of love is a shooting meteor; the pain of love is the darkness following.

Being a mother must be the saddest yet the most hopeful thing in the world, falling into a love that, once started, would never end.

Being a mother must be the saddest yet most hopeful thing in the world, falling into a love that, once started, would never end.

Mrs. Pang was once a nanny for me, and she spoils me the way I imagined kindhearted women would spoil an orphan, loving me for whom I am, exactly the opposite of my mother, whose love I have to earn with great effort and with little success.

There's a reason for every relationship, that's what the saying means. Husband and wife, parents and children, friends and enemies, strangers you bump into in the street. It takes three thousand years of prayers to place your head side by side with your loved one's on the pillow. For father and daughter? A thousand years, maybe. People don't end up randomly as father and daughter, that's for sure.

The moment you admit someone into your heart you make yourself a fool,

but like all mothers whose children are growing up and drifting away from them, she felt an urge to stay in his shack as long as she could, to cling to anything that she could use, when he vanished from her life, to reconstruct a son from memory.

Only later, when I met more girls, when I got to know my nieces and nephews, did I understand that Fabienne and I shared something not often available to children (or adults, for that matter). Neither of us felt intense love toward our parents, or intense resentment. And the world was made of people who were not that different from our parents, so it was only natural that neither of us felt intense love or intense resentment toward anyone. We had each other, and for a long time that was enough.