Quotes About Love

I'm far from perfect, but I'll be perfect for that imperfect person that's perfect for me.

Maybe that's what love is, in the end: a shared illusion of safety.

as she walked back to her husband, lola thought about lying on her expensive sheets and holding a baby - their baby - to her breast. to the baby, lola would smell like a mother, and the ridiculous chandelier would look like stars.

What he needs," Lee said, "is a father who supports him!" She'd been thirteen, the bravest girl in the world

He turned to her. "New Zealand," said Jules. He put his hand on her knee. He was exactly the prize she wanted…or the prize she had been trained to want. Her grandmother had been so pleased. But now Gram was dead and Whitney could wonder: did she want her husband anymore? Had she ever loved him—or just mistaken security for love?

Biographers are notorious for falling in love with their subjects. It is the literary equivalent of the Stockholm Syndrome,

I wanted to be his life preserver, the thing that would keep him afloat. Instead, he became my anchor. And I'm tired of drowning.

But even when I stop crying, even when we fall asleep and I'm nestled in his arms, this will leave another scar. No one will see it. No one will know. But it will be there. And eventually all of the scars will have scars, and that's all I'll be--one big scar of a love gone wrong.

What do you do when the one person you want comfort from the most is the one who caused your pain? How can I want so desperately for him to wrap me up in his arms but also want so much for him to leave me alone.

One response to the loss of love, of the beloved, is an understanding of the illusory nature of partings, of the way love can transcend time and space

I don't care where I come from or who you are. I can make you happy, and you make me happy. We could have a happily ever after.

Damn fool," Mother whispered, and covered her face with her hands. "It's not enough that he spells out Leon on the roof every year in Christmas lights. Now this!" My father was dyslexic but would not admit it.

From the time she was a little biddy thing I always told her: Melinda, don't talk to strangers. But she loved everyone. She was a real good girl.

hold one another close …" I eased through the throng of candlelit faces as the minister quoted scripture and talked about the

Love is like a flower when you pick it, it dies and if you hold on too tight it stops being beautiful.

The people you care about most, care the least for you. That is why I'm just a number to you even though you are my world.

What good is a name when your in love? You only ever you pet names anyway. Hun.

You give my heart hiccups.

What a gift! To control the uncontrollable. To be loved. To own love. To own a love.

Maybe it was this place, this strange, ramshackle, warm-hearted place, that had given his wife that air of laughing, welcoming life. Because here she bloomed. With him she had faded and he had faded with her. Yet here she was, his Jane again. His hope. And he had never, ever wanted to hope again.

I could only see you. I only wanted to be with you. But marriage is never just two people, is it? It's so much more.

I am well aware that for some, love and passion do not always follow the traditional path

That is what makes it all so fascinating, you see. Loving you is like gravity or the daily sunrise. It is a mystery that I know I will be content to explore for the rest of my life.

Mutual interests and mutual passion were all very well as far as they went, he thought, but they were no longer enough. He needed more from Prudence. He wanted her to love him. The extent of his need for her love made him uneasy, but he could no longer deny it.