Quotes About Love

Nobody gets over anything; time doesn't heal any wounds; if he stopped loving her today, as one of George Jones's most famous songs has it, it's because he's dead.

The things that make our lives are so tenuous, so unlikely, that we barely come into being, barely meet the people we're meant to love, barely find our way in the woods, barely survive catastrophe every day.

The beauty of those places I are with me still. And in all of the dreams, as in my waking life, was the love of place. The sense that places were embodiments of emotions, where anchors were companions of a sort. Even protectors or parents.

La furia y el deseo vienen en un paquete, entremezclados y revueltos en algo que siempre amenaza con transformar el eros en thanatos, amor en muerte, algunas veces literalmente.

As Sidda joined Vivi in staring out into the darkness of the fields, where hundreds of sunflowers grew, she thought: I will never fully know my mother, any more than I will ever know my father or Connor, or myself. I have been missing the point. The point is not knowing another person, or learning to love another person. The point is simply this: how tender can we bear to be? What good manners can we show as we welcome ourselves and others into our hearts?

The moon loved them. Not because they were beautiful, or because they were perfect, or because they were perky, but because they were her darling daughters.

True love is not a crock, but patriotism is.

She leaned down and smelled the skin at Connor's shoulders right at the spots where, as Martha Graham might have said, his own wings might have been attached.

Glorious theater. It creates family for all kinds of orphans.

Connor: [about Sidda and Connor's wedding] Vivi, it's taken years to nail down a date. She's always said, What's the rush, when things are so good? I don't know what the hell she's so afraid of - it's like she's always waiting for the bottom to drop out. Vivi: You know why she thinks that, don't ya, honey? Because it did. It always did.

Sidda sank down into the wide flannel embrace of their bodies, and she rested. For a moment she died a little death, they died it together.

She breathed in the vast world of suffering and pure, dark love, and as she did, a well of compassion began to flow in her.

Sidda can't help herself, She just loves books. Loves the way they feel, the way they smell, loves those black letters marching across the white pages.

The point is not knowing another person, or learning to love another person. The point is simply this: how tender can we bear to be? What good manners can we show as we welcome ourselves and others in our hearts?

saw that pain is part of beauty—that inside of all that music, all that love, all the moonlight and sunlight, are shafts of pain, and we are meant to bear it all.

thinking: I don't want my little girl to come out blind or gouged up. I'm not cheap, I'm scared. It's the story of my life: not stingy, just a goddamn coward.

I danced with her mother on an old wooden floor where rhythm was queen. I danced with her father as he held her mother. I danced with her mother when her belly was big, a sail blown full with the wind. I held her mother as she let go of the earth's pull, as her family did its best to let the sweet dancing mother come home to me.

sparklers out in front of her. Staring at them, she thought: These are all I have. I do not have the wide, bright beacon of some solid old lighthouse, guiding ships safely home, past the jagged rocks. I only have these little glimmers that flicker and then go out. Let me see my daughter like my mother could never see me. Let her see me, too.

Sidda and I will always have to be careful with each other.

The happiness in her eyes made my heart hurt.

Good Lord didn't mean for us to hate ourself. He made us to love ourself like He do, with wide open arms.

the ocean is my mother.

I had just asked the kids what would have made them feel more loved. But

Glorious theater. It creates family for all kinds of orphans. -- Wade Coenen in Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood