Quotes About Love

I don't actually think "true love" is such a good term because love can only be true. If it isn't true it can't be love.

after all, she had birthed us alone, diapered and fed us, helped us with homework, kissed and hugged us, poured her love into us. That she might not actually know us seemed the humblest thing a mother could admit.

I loved my brother, but relying on him was like closing a hand around air.

With my hand in his, I looked at all the apartment buildings with rushes of love, peering in the wide streetside windows that revealed living rooms painted in dark burgandies and matte reds.

My genes, my love, are rubber bands and rope; make yourself a structure you can live inside. Amen. — Aimee Bender (Willful Creatures: Stories)

When we sleep together, he holds me like he loves me. I've noticed this: when it's the first date, and you fuck, the guy holds you much better than he does the next few times. The first date, you're sort of a stand-in for whomever he loved last, before he fully realizes you're not her, so you get all this nice residue emotion.

He said, I always thought the woman I'd marry would hit me easy, in a bolt of lightning, and there is not lightning there is not even thunder there is not even rain.

There was love to be felt, and discovered, still.

He breathed in her hair, the sweet-smelling thickness of it. My father usually agreed with her requests, because stamped in his two-footed stance and jaw was the word Provider, and he loved her the way a bird-watcher's heart leaps when he hears the call of the roseate spoonbill, a fluffy pink wader, calling its lilting coo-coo from the mangroves. Check, says the bird-watcher. Sure, said my father, tapping a handful of mail against her back.

They'd been married for years, and he wanted her to give up the last thread of cover so she would stand before him nude and he could make love to her entire skin. Well, of course that made her head fall off. Of course.

Ponytail girl leaned over and she and the tall boy kissed and it was carcinogen gums and magical.

My father usually agreed with her requests, because stamped in his two-footed stance and jaw was the word Provider, and he loved her the way a bird-watcher's heart leaps when he hears the call of the roseate spoonbill, a fluffy pink wader, calling its lilting coo-coo from the mangroves.

I think it's good to smile at everybody so that everyone knows you love everyone. It's good for human pacifism.

The heart is the only book worth reading.

Simply put, once married you will no longer give a shit about how you look. What's more, personal appearance can be a handy arena in which to punish your spouse passive aggressively by allowing your own appearance to deteriorate.

Franni knew I loved these tours, but one year she said to me in frustration, "You don't see Bill O'Reilly going on USO tours." "That's not fair, honey," I said. "He has no talent.

the loss of love that comes to mean more than the love itself and how explain that? — a still pool in the forest that has ceased to reflect anything except the past from "Listening to Myself

so much like riding dangerous women with whiskey coloured eyes - such women as once fell dead with their lovers with fire in their heads and slippery froth on thighs

And you you bitch no irritating questions re love and permanence only an unrolling lifetime here between your rocking thighs and the semblance of motion

Seeing the sky darken & the fields turn brown & the lake lead-grey as some enormous scrap of sheet metal & wind grabs the world around the equator I am most thankful then for knowing about the little gold hairs on your belly

My dove my little one tonight there will be wine and drunken suitors from the logging camps to pin you down in the outlying lands of sleep where all roads lead back to the home-village and water may be walked on)

I forget whether I ever loved you in the past—when you enter the room your climate is the mood of living, the hinge of now, in time the present tense. Certainly you are the world I am not done with, until I dispense with words— Yet neutral: something I say will flash back like light or shadow; you wait to be a stranger I've not met or fondled or slept with. from "Where the Moment Is

if you asked most people whether they believed in love or not, they'd probably say they didn't. Yet that's not necessarily what they truly think. It's just the way they defend themselves against what they want. They believe in it, but pretend they don't until they're allowed to. Most people would throw away all their cynicism if they could. The majority just never gets the chance.

We should add that it is a privilege to be the recipient of a sulk: it means the other person respects and trusts us enough to think we should understand their unspoken hurt. It is one of the odder gifts of love.