Quotes About Love

when I see pairs of young lovers, vertically entwined on street corners, or horizontally entwined on a blanket in the park, the main feeling it arouses in me is a kind of protectiveness. No, not pity: protectiveness. Not that they would want my protection. And yet—and this is curious—the more bravado they show in their behaviour, the stronger my response. I want to protect them from what the world is probably going to do to them, and from what they will probably do to one another.

But then lovers always assume that people are on their side.

Pierdes el mundo por una mirada? Pues claro que sí. Para eso es el mundo: para perderlo en las circunstancias apropiadas.

The French had the more pragmatic approach: you married for social position, for money or property, for the perpetuation of family, but not for love. Love rarely survived marriage, and it was a foolish hypocrisy to pretend that it might.

Love, he had ventured, was like the vast and sudden uncreasing of a lifelong frown.

There is a strong tradition in the nineteenth century and on into the twentieth of artists seeing marriage as the enemy of art. Love, yes; marriage, no. Flaubert took the wedding of any literary friend as a personal betrayal, and beyond that, a betrayal of their shared art.

Love may not lead where we think or hope, but regardless of outcome it should be a call to seriousness and truth. If it is not that - if it is not moral in its effect - than love is no more than an exaggerated form of pleasure.

What he didn't – or couldn't – tell Joan was his terrifying discovery that love, by some ruthless, almost chemical process, could resolve itself into pity and anger.

First love fixes a life forever: this much I have discovered over the years. It may not outrank subsequent loves, but they will always be affected by its existence. It may serve as model, or as counterexample. It may overshadow subsequent loves; on the other hand, it can make them easier, better. Though sometimes, first love cauterises the heart, and all any searcher will find thereafter is scar tissue.

don't believe in destiny, as I may have said. But I do believe now that when two lovers meet, there is already so much prehistory that only certain outcomes are possible.

Cu toata c? majoritatea oamenilor s-au simÈ›it cît se poate de nefericiÈ›i in perioada cît au fost îndr?gostiÈ›i, aceasta este starea dup? care fiinÈ›a uman? tînjeÈ™te mai presus de toate.

In the States, the Abdication story, for example, is portrayed as The World Well Lost For Love while the English, of a certain type anyway, see it only as childish, irresponsible and absurd.

Mary: "Don't be spiky, when I only want what you want – for you and Tony to walk into the sunset together." Mabel: "Then why turn up looking like a cross between a Vogue fashion plate and a case of dynamite?" Mary: "Well, I can't make it too easy for him.

How many of us, having cried bitter, rancid tears over a failed love, are actually disappointed when we discover, seeing the adored one again, that all trace of their power over us is gone? How often one has resisted the freedom-giving knowledge that they have actually begun to irritate us as that seems like the worst kind of disloyalty to our own dreams. No, while most people have been at their unhappiest when in love, it is nevertheless the state the human being yearns for above all.

No, while most people have been at their unhappiest when in love, it is nevertheless the state the human being yearns for above all.

Aunque la mayoría de las personas son más desgraciadas cuando están enamoradas, no deja de ser el estado en el que más desea estar el ser humano

Courtiers in some of their inscriptions referring to the king say, "I did what his ka loved" or "I did that which his ka approved

Don't talk about dying? You want me to talk about love. They're one and the same, child. One and the same.

When I met you, I thought we were meant for each other, even though, in some ways, seemed very different and we kept fighting. But now ... What? Now I think we're meant for each other, but we are doing to each other, to become the people we become. You know what I mean.

Here, falling in love can be an event, a proclamation without acknowledging that everyone you love could die an awful death, that loving someone is an acceptance of impending loss.

First, you hand over some basics--overwhelming joy, existential angst, a giving-in to desire, etc. And then you promise to withstand talking idly about the weather, to encourage cliché, to uphold the virtues of average. You hand over the need to be understood and, in return, you get a bar of Normal soap. And you can wash in it and be daily reborn to a safe world of modest, enduring love or, at least, mild, well-mannered bonding.

Siente él lo mismo que ella, un torbellino persistente que le aporrea el corazón? Con todo lo que ha perdido, lo único que sabe ahora es que a él no puede perderlo...en la vida.

Even if their supplies of love are finite, they've figured out that life is, too, and they're no longer rationing.

And I knew that I loved him with more than a nod. I loved him with a rush of tenderness, a lion's share. (Is that ever enough?) I wanted to survive. I had to. I never called.