Quotes About Love

You like him because he is a lost boy. Believe me, I've seen it happen before. But do you know what happens to girls who love lost boys? They become lost themselves. Without fail.

It's one thing to fall in love. It's another to feel someone else fall in love with you, and to feel a responsibility toward that love.

Maybe Dana loved you for your pain. I loved you for everything.

The problem, says my sister, Kelly, is not that I can't get over Naomi - it's that I refuse to.... Loving Naomi and waiting for her to come back to me - it's not a stalker thing, but more like a personal mission. A job.

there was a time before you but I can't remember it now a time before your beauty and I were formally introduced I'm sure I lived without you but I don't remember how can't imagine living without these feelings you've produced just once glance and my life was redrawn just one word and my vocabulary changed I asked the time and you said what's the hurry? you asked my name and I almost forgot

Basis, n. There has to be a moment at the beginning when you wonder whether you're in love with the person or in love with the feeling of love itself. If the moment doesn't pass, that's it -- you're done. And if the moment does pass, it never goes that far. It stands in the distance, ready for whenever you want it back. Sometimes it's even there when you thought you were searching for something else, like an escape route, or your lover's face.

I want to love. I want to love indiscriminately - people, places, and things. But not just those. I want to love verbs. Adjectives. I want to love beyond category. Because, in my heart, I know that's what I was born to do. And life? Life is just the time I have to figure out how to do it well.

But do you know what happens to girls who love lost boys? They become lost themselves. Without fail.

We come to a corner where there are a few people protesting the festivities. I don't understand this at all. It's like protesting the fact that some people are red-haired. In my experience, desire is desire, love is love.

The things you love are the things that will destroy you.

Your Temporary Santa, He says presents aren't important, but I think they are- not because of how much they cost, but for the opportunity they provide to say 'I understand you.

But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

And I'll admit—I thought it might be best if we kept it all to the page, passed that notebook back and forth until we were ninety. But clearly that wasn't meant to be. And who am I to blow against the wind?

So many of us had to leave. But every single one of us wishes we hadn't had to. Every single one of us wishes our family had acted like our family, that even when we found a new family, we hadn't had to leave the other one behind. Every single one of us would have loved to have been loved unconditionally by our parents. Don't make him leave you, we want to tell Mrs. Kim. He doesn't want to leave you.

Fill your head with the right pictures of me. Fill your head with the ones you'd hang on the wall.

I pressed my head into the pillow and I screamed. Pure sound. No words. But it all came out as your name.

I look around me and see all the problems. I know people aren't living the gospel. I know they are too busy. The world is too loud. The sounds you hear in the hall or not the substance of love and kindness. I hear gossip, I hear spite, I hear fear. I do not hear the gospel. Except inside me, I can feel it there.

It was, I thought, a simple equation: You find the right person. You do the right things. And from that, everything goes right.

People take love's continuity for granted, just as they take their body's continuity for granted. They don't realize that the best thing about love is its regular presence. Once you can establish that, it's an added foundation to your life. But if you cannot have that regular presence, you only have the one foundation to support you, always.

She loves the way Vic looks, using the world debonair instead of dapper.

But does he see everything, or only what he wants to be seeing? This is always one of the great questions of love.

Love weaves itself from hundreds of threads. Happenstances. I just happened to be one of them.

You're believing in love more than I do; you're standing up for someone who is less than deserving.

Can you like someone who confuses the hell out of you? All the fucking time.