Quotes About Love

Is happy the same as contented do you think?... as I see it, happiness is something that comes in bursts from outside – love at first sight, winning at chess, getting good news. Happiness is something that seizes you. ...I think of contentment as an everyday thing. It's what you feel when you don't want anything more – until you do. It's nice, but it needs a shot of happiness now and again.

One kind kiss before we part, Drop a tear, and bid adieu; Though we sever, my fond heart Till we meet shall pant for you.

Life is short. Forgive quickly. Kiss slowly.

I knew what we had was not over, we were not done and we did not know how to make our love end.

She did not come to my dreams and memories as a sweet recollection; she brought back the shame and humiliation I'd felt when I realized, standing in her kitchen, that love can be faked and, therefore, never fully trusted.

child, Lord, with the soft mantle of your love. Teach

It isn't going to be better, Maggie. It's going to be different, and different is okay. You just have to learn how to embrace it. Like anything, it takes time. What you have to realize is that crying is God's way of helping us wash away the pain. So don't you ever apologize for crying; it's a reminder to us all that we're human, and that we love our family with our entire being. And that's a beautiful thing.

What was better, after all, than being in love with your best friend?

Dan's smell lingered on the pillow. He'd been a gentle and patient lover, his hands firm but his touch soft, just as she'd imagined. He'd given her time to relax, to free her mind until she was no longer thinking, just reacting to the motion of his body and the touch of his hands. When she'd climaxed, she'd clung to him, not wanting the feeling, or him, to leave her.

Being a parent meant exposing a part of your heart to incredible joy and happiness, but also to the possibility of unspeakable despair and agony.

buried her at the Catholic cemetery. Six weeks later, I buried my father beside her. He simply could not live without her.

Sarah bit at a fingernail. "Could we still see each other every day?" Tracy lifted her arm. Sarah slid closer. "Of course we will. You're my favorite sister, even if you are a brat." "I'm your only sister.

Looking into your child's eyes, knowing you would never again see in them the glint of life, was the harshest kind of reality, and there wasn't a faith in the world that could ease that pain.

My father knew the depth of my relationship to my mother, and he didn't begrudge us a moment of it. My relationship with him was different. He'd raised me to be a man, and he was proud of me. But to my mother—I suspect to all mothers—their little boys will always be their little boys, no matter how old those boys become.

Tienes buena memoria. —Solo para la buena gente, los buenos amantes y el buen vino.

we live for the quiet, intimate moments that mark not our calendars but our hearts: The day we marry. The days our children are born. Their first step. Their first word. Their first day of school. And when our children grow, we remember those moments with a touch of melancholy: the day they get their driver's license, the day we drive them to college, the day they marry, and the day they have their children.

Usted tiene el regalo. Usted es un curandero.

How is that asshole?" "He still loves you and wants you to bear his children." "I'd rather pull my uterus out through my nostrils with a coat hanger.

Guilt is never as good a motivator as love, David. Act out of love. Do it because you love your son.

My father once told me that love is not about who you can live with, but about who you cannot live without.

Feed him [her cat] and you'll have a friend for life... That means he's Italian.

You realize you are like 99.9 percent of the rest of the world, just a cog in the wheel trying to make some sense of where you belong in the incomprehensible grand design of it all. And you realize that people you trust are going to disappoint you, friends will come and go, and those you love will die. Sloane

Never be afraid to tell the truth, Sam. Not to the people who love you.

You realize you are like 99.9 percent of the rest of the world, just a cog in the wheel trying to make some sense of where you belong in the incomprehensible grand design of it all. And you realize that people you trust are going to disappoint you, friends will come and go, and those you love will die.