Quotes About Love

We must not love the world, nor the things of the world, until the world is sanctified and prepared to be presented to the Father with the Saints upon it; then they will inhabit it for ever and ever.

If you, my brethren, are quick to comprehend, and if you love the truth, you will treasure up these things and ponder them in your hearts, and when you are asked with regard to them they will be revealed to you.

Silly old bear. I wouldn't ever forget about you, Pooh I promise. Not even when I'm hundred.

But love, like wine, gives a tumultuous bliss, Heighten'd indeed beyond all mortal pleasures; But mingles pangs and madness in the bowl.

The love of praise, howe'er concealed by art, Reigns more or less, and glows in ev'ry heart: The proud to gain it toils on toils endure, The modest shun it, but to make it sure.

Excellent creature! How my soul pants for thee!

Woes cluster. Rare are solitary woes; They love a train, they tread each other's heel.

You can kiss your family and friends good-bye and put miles between you, but a the same time you carry them with you in your heart, your mind, your stomach, because you do not just live in a world but a world lives in you.

In some sense every parent does love their children. But some parents are too broken to love them well.

We've created a theology in the West of a God who is fundamentally self-centered. The imagery of God as distant, unapproachable, unreachable -- that's not a God who is relational. It is a God that gets to declare or judge when he gets pissed off. But there is no basis for love and relationships if God is a fundamentally self-centered being.

Don't forget that in the midst of all your pain and heartache, you are surrounded by beauty, the wonder of creation, art, your music and culture, the sounds of laughter and love, of whispered hopes and celebrations, of new life and transformation, of reconciliation and forgiveness.

I wrote a story for my kids. It's fiction. It's not systematic theology. It's not a new book of the Bible. It's flawed, I wrote it. All of that goes into the mix, but I love the controversy. It elevates the conversation.

Trust is the fruit of a relationship in which you know you are loved.

Thank goodness there are women in our lives -- that's all I can say. We get saved by the women in our lives.

Submission is not about authority and it is not obedience; it is all about relationships of love and respect.

Look at us human beings: it's so much easier to be right than to love.

I respect music, I do. I love it.

I love grocery shopping when I'm home. That's what makes me feel totally normal. I love both the idea of home as in being with my family and friends, and also the idea of exploration. I think those two are probably my great interests.

It is a terrible fate to be a human, to be young and fair, and then so quickly to decay." "A terrible fate indeed: to grow, to learn, to love, to create, to let go. Some say it's a terrible fate to be a Faery; to stay unchanging and unfeeling for all eternity, to spend one's time in nothing but frivolity and pleasure-seeking," Sylvie answers.

I thought I was someone who did not need to love, or to be loved.

V?a nãy anh khóc là c? t??ng Nh?t L?c ?ã ch?t, bây gi? khóc là vì ?ã trông th?y Nh?t L?c v?n còn s?ng…

My emotional state then was cramped and confined, like a room with tightly sealed windows and doors: although love's footsteps could be heard outside the room, I felt they were steps heading somewhere else--until one day when the steps came to a halt and the bell rang.

Chunsheng," gli dissi, "non devi assolutamente fare il pazzo, i morti stessi vorrebbero tornare a vivere, un uomo sano e forte come te non può morire!" Poi aggiunsi: "La vita te l'hanno data tuo padre e tua madre, se non la vuoi più, devi prima chiederlo a loro". "Mio padre e mia madre sono morti da tempo," disse Chunsheng asciugandosi le lacrime. "A maggior ragione, allora, devi vivere e bene, pensaci: hai fatto tante guerre in giro per il mondo, è stato forse facile restare in vita?

Per la mia imbranataggine in materia, ero come una casa senza porte e finestre: l'amore faceva su e giù, io sentivo il rumore dei passi, ma credevo che fosse lì per caso e diretto altrove. Finché, un giorno, si fece avanti e suonò il campanello.