Quotes About Love

And once the waves passed, there would still be the love. It was an entirely different feeling from the uncomplicated, unstinting adoration she'd felt as a young bride, walking down the aisle to that serious, handsome man; but,she knew,that no matter how much she hated him for what he'd done, she would always still love him. It was still there, like a deep seam of gold in her heart. It would always be there.

That was the secret of a happy marriage. Step away from the rage.

remembering all the glorious moments, one after the other after the other, her children's ecstatic faces looking for their parents in the stands, looking for their approval, looking for their love, knowing it was there, knowing—she hoped they knew this—that it would always be there, even long after she and Stan were gone, because love like that was infinite.

But then there were the other times, unexpected quiet moments, where they'd catch each other's eyes, and all the years of hurt and joy, bad times and good times, seemed to fuse into a feeling that she knew was so much stronger, more complex and real, than of those fledgling feelings for Dominick, or even the love she'd first felt for Nick in those early years.

You think love is black and white. All women think that. And they're wrong. Women are really intelligent except for when they're being really stupid.

Ellen came out of the nursery from checking on Grace and said, "I love her so much it's just…" "Excruciating," supplied her mother. "I know. It doesn't really get any better. You just learn to live with it.

Once, she'd loved to receive flowers. Now it was like being handed a series of tasks: Find the vase. Cut the stems. Arrange them like so.

He was a selfish, pompous, egocentric, nasty man. She did not want to be married to him, but she did not want him to marry someone else. She did not want him, but she wanted him to want her.

Zach was still there. He wasn't going anywhere. He was going to stick around while she finished uni and traveled and got a job and got married and got old. Just because he chose death didn't mean Zoe couldn't choose life. He was still there in her heart and her memory, and he was going to stay beside her, keeping her company right until the end.

Mum used to say that when she met my dad it was like a perfect love story. I thought Patrick was my perfect love story. Except he's not. He's the hypnotist's love story. I'm the ex-girlfriend in the hypnotist's love story. Not the heroine. I'm only a minor character.

Sometimes their children would do everything exactly as they'd taught them, and sometimes they would do all the things they'd told them not to do, and seeing them suffer the tiniest disappointments would be more painful than their own most significant losses, but then other times they would do something so extraordinary, so unexpected and beautiful, so entirely of their own choice and their own making,

She wanted to hug him and at the same time she kind of wanted to slap him.

Claire was Troy's ex-wife, once a much-loved member of the family, just like Indira and to a lesser extent, Grant. It was like a death each time her children broke up with someone, and over the years there had been many, many deaths.

as their eyes met she got that feeling again, that sensation of there being something huge between them, something she couldn't quite define, something her twenty-year-old self might have called 'passion' and her thirty-year-old self might have more cynically called 'chemistry'.

She knew one tiny grandchild was all it would take to stop the silence roaring, to make her days splutter back to life again, but you could not ask your children for grandchildren.

And sure, they love their kids, but let's be honest, they're hard work. And it's not like you get to keep those adorable babies. Babies disappear. They grow up. They

love is exciting and exhilarating. It's light and bubbly. Anyone can love like that. But love after three children, after a separation and a near-divorce, after you've hurt each other and forgiven each other, bored each other and surprised each other, after you've seen the worst and the best—well, that sort of a love is ineffable. It deserves its own word.

and the memory had vanished, the way old clothes vanished and you forgot they had ever existed until an old photo reminded you: I loved that T-shirt.

He just randomly, arbitrarily, idiotically broke her heart.

For her, the smell of cigarettes smelled like love. She dated far too many smokers for this reason.

He made her happy and maede her laugh. She still enjoyed talking with him, watching TV with him, lying in bed with him on cold, rainy mornings. She still wanted him.

But even while he is frustrated with her, or hurt by her, or plain irritated by her, he still loves her, he still has a secret crush on her, he is still awed that someone this beautiful is with him.

It's about making a choice to make your marriage a priority, to, kind of, put that at the top of the page, as your mission statement or something.

Early love is exciting and exhilarating. It's light and bubbly. Anyone can love like that. But love after three children, after a separation and a near-divorce, after you've hurt each other and forgiven each other, bored each other and surprised each other, after you've seen the worst and the best—well, that sort of a love is ineffable. It