Quotes About Love

I don't hate anyone. The only people I know well enough to hate, I love.

Once you become the mommy or daddy in your child's world, it is the only world in which you exist, no matter how much you fancy there is a separate world of your own.

A lovers' quarrel is always about every quarrel you ever had.

There is a language of love, which is to say, a truth that does not tell all and a lie that does not deceive.

Be it in the garden, the nursery or the bedroom, a loving touch compensates for an unskilled hand.

Perhaps we are given a mom that we might take into death the memory of a lullaby.

A man finds love and is satisfied. A woman finds love and insists on turning it into happiness.

Being loved by all is little fun Unless you're also loved by one.

The hardest thing to accept as a parent is that you cannot apply the bandage before the bruise.

When I am gone, my love, do not look for me in the places we used to go to together. Look for me in the places we always planned to go to together.

A mom forgives us all our faults, not to mention one or two we don't even have.

Today, befriend a stranger, or if you feel up to more of a challenge, befriend a loved one.

Love is at first a set of delusions, which, as time goes by, are discarded like training wheels, and you love truly.

Love is given to us as a time, but to keep it always, we must make it a place.

Smile of love, a flower planted, Sprung in the garden of joy that art: Eyes that shine with a glow enchanted, Whose spreading fires encircle my heart, And warm with a noon-ray drenched in fire My land of delight, my land of desire!

When June is come, then all the day I'll sit with my love in the scented hay: And watch the sunshot palaces high, That the white clouds build in the breezy sky. She singeth, and I do make her a song, And read sweet poems the whole day long: Unseen as we lie in our haybuilt home. O life is delight when June is come.

She has learnt the language of love From lips that laugh in the sun, Where the skies are so clear above, Her eyes fresh blue have won. But oh be still my heart! Will she yet remember the day Her tears o'er our kiss did run, The day that she went away?

'Twas here we loved in sunnier days and greener; And now, in this disconsolate decay, I come to see her where I most have seen her, And touch the happier day.

From Adam's wife, that proved a curse Though God had made her for a blessing, All women born are so perverse No man need boast their love possessing.

Since to be loved endures, To love is wise.

There's not a ship in sight; And as the sun goes under Thick clouds conspire to cover The moon that should rise yonder. Thou art alone, fond lover.

I love all beauteous things,I seek and adore them;God hath no better praise,And man in his hasty daysIs honored for them.

When first we met, we did not guess, That love would prove so hard a master...

Self-love is an ending, she said, and not a beginning. Love means love of the thing sung, not of the song or the singing.