Quotes About Love

You might, without my crediting it, fall deeply in love and forever, with some warped hunchback whelped in the gutter. I should equally stop you from taking him.

Before God, you are my soul; and till death and beyond, will remain so.

Every other woman since Eve has asked to be loved more than honour. But not you.

And isna Sybilla a wee love o' a bitch?' 'You say the nicest things about my mother,' said Lymond.

Better to be whipped than humoured; better to be crushed than cherished.… It was a woman told me that. I live in a world of men, my dear,' Lymond had said. 'I love you all, but I shall never marry you.

He was not a figment of daydream or of fantasy. He was the quick-witted man who had raced with her; the man whose strong wrists had pulled her from trouble; whose laughter recognized, more than his own, her buffoonery; whose voice had whispered, sung, exclaimed or cursed, with equal felicity, carefree as birdsong on top of their striving. Whose essence, stripped by necessity was, it now seemed, warm and joyous and of great generosity.

My love is given to no one,' said Lymond. 'To neither man, woman or child. Duty, friendship, compassion I do owe to many. But love I offer to none.

That day, engrossed together in the fate of the child, he met her mind to mind and fell in love with her, with every grain of his spirit and cell of his body; with the essential finality of death.

Very soon afterward, Tom Erskine found her, and in five minutes, during which her heart in its cold cage took wearily to itself a new, lifelong burden of protective and fond understanding, Christian Stewart became his affianced wife.

Come, my love,' said Míkál, 'and say goodnight to the dark.' And held him close, full of a sweet young compassion, as the little boy died.

All the linear delicacy of the boy he had once been stood exposed now in the still, blindfolded face of her son. The clinging yellow hair, orderly on the white linen, was the same silk that had veiled her rings when she had smoothed his pillow in childhood; the cheekbone under the bandage had once, fresh and firm, been pressed to her own; the beautiful hands, lying loose on the damask, belonged to him and also to another man, whom she had placed before all others, and always would.

We all die,' said Nostradamus. 'The man you love. The man who loves you. The man you married. But because of you there will be something, I promise you, by which men will know Francis Crawford has been.

I hope,' said Jerott, breathing softly and hard, 'that you never meet those who will judge what you have done. How would you recognize love? Or compassion? Francis at least has learned that.

What Mr Blyth has been engaged in was not love, my dear Francis. It was romance, a thing to which Mr Blyth has been very prone; together with melodrama. Whatever made you think that melodrama makes Mr Blyth uncomfortable? He revels in it.

Whoever is unsupported by the Mystery of Love shall not achieve the grace of salvation. Whoever shall cast love aside shall lose everything.

I am in love-desire, and unless you take me now, I shall fall in pieces...but I do not think I can be moderate. Forgive me, forgive me...' But her breathing was as changed now as his, and all order retreating before the strength of the living force beating about them. She pressed the latch, and set the last door to lie open. 'Khush geldi: welcome: thou art come happily,' she said gently, and let him come, where he belonged, within her gouvernance.

And then the blue eyes, with gentleness, scanned all her new-made body and came to rest on her eyes. 'I have begun to eat,' said Francis Crawford. 'And I have begun to slake my thirst. But in you I have found a banquet under the heavens that will serve me for ever.

Richard, I am not worth anyone's heartache.' 'I know that,' Richard said. 'But she does not.' 'She will have to learn,' Lymond said.

I could not have done that. I fear nothing and no one. I respect nothing and no one. But I could not have done that.' 'You have done it,' Jerott said. 'It is easy to do it, out of hatred. But you are right. I know of no one else on earth who could have done it out of love.

But you loved my father,' he said. 'And Eloise's, of course. What was he like?' 'Like you,' Sybilla said. 'And worth all this?' Lymond said. 'Yes,' said Sybilla. 'Don't you, of all people, know what love can do?

He had not moved. But, her blue eyes on his face, she did not rise. 'Lord, is there nothing in the cup for me? While you were drinking, I was singing to you.' The detachment had gone from his face, but not the strength. He shook his head; and rising, Marthe turned and walked from the room.

Marthe said, her face streaked and silvered with tears, "I could not have done that. I fear nothing and no one. I respect nothing and no one. But I could not have done that." "You have done it," Jerott said. "It is easy to do it, out of hatred. But you are right. I know of no one else on earth who could have done it out of love.

You summon and you throw away. You treat love like a bird for the table … Like a pawn, now in frankincense, now discarded and thrown in the dirt. You don't know what love is, either of you. And God help us and you, if you ever find out.

I am glad then,' said Catherine, 'that there was nothing between us, rather than mediocrity.' And from the homes … of Unicornes … 'There was kindness,' he said. 'And that was a great deal.