Quotes About Love

I love Frieda so much I don't like to talk about it. I never knew what love was before…. The world is wonderful and beautiful and good beyond one's wildest imagination. Never, never, never could one conceive what love is, beforehand, never. Life can be great—quite god-like. It can be so. God be thanked I have proved it.

The one woman who never gives herself is your free woman, who is always giving herself.

no form of love is wrong, so long as it is love, and you yourself honour what you are doing. Love has an extraordinary variety of forms! And that is all there is in life, it seems to me. But I grant you, if you deny the variety of love you deny love altogether. If you try to specialize love into one set of accepted feelings, you wound the very soul of love. Love must be multi-form, else it is just tyranny, just death

Real love is always fated. It has been arranged before time. It is the most meticulously prepared of coincidences.

He's too tired to squirm clear of her, which is good 'cause pinching and kissing and hugging will calm an Italian mother-person better than anything.

Friends that you have known for a long time and love very dearly never seem to grow old.

The best way to plant happiness is to do at least one thing every day to make one person happier, and to do it for God. That shouldn't be difficult. we can all do that.

He put down the paper without regret, and looked at his wife, and, as he looked at her, he smiled because she was nice to look at, and because he loved her, and because she amused and interested him enormously. They had been married for nine months now, and sometimes he thought he knew her through and through, and sometimes he thought he didn't know the first thing about her—theirs was a most satisfactory marriage.

It was an eye-opener to Charlotte that she could love somebody in this mad way with a wild sweet tenerness that made everything he touched precious to her.

Death is not the saddest way to lose somebody you love.

They had finished their meal. Anne rose to fetch the coffee and as she passed his chair she bent over and kissed him lightly on the forehead. It was a butterfly caress and exactly expressed the relationship between them, which was almost that of father and daughter, but not quite. Fathers and daughters have always known each other and take their affection for granted as a natural thing, but these two had found each other and were grateful.

When Tilly was fifteen she had imagined herself in love with Archie Cobbe, for he was exactly the sort of young man to awaken a romantic attachment. He was so big and so good-looking and people said he was wild. You met him sometimes, riding about Chevis Green on a prancing horse and he always waved his cap and shouted "Hallo!" Then old Lady Chevis had died and left him Chevis Place, and Archie had taken the name of "Chevis" and settled down into a model squire.

There was physical comfort in abundance, the house was full of beautiful things, but there was no love, no kindness, there was none of the gentleness and consideration which makes the smallest cottage a home.

The young men were strangers to Tilly and therefore strangers to Chevis Green. They looked rather nice, rather interesting, but, as one was tall and fair and the other short and dark, neither of them was the future husband who would love her passionately and help in the production of her family.

was a good mother to her three children, but there was no vitality in her. She died — if not of a broken heart, of a bruised one — when her youngest child, a daughter, was eight years old.

Interesting? What do you mean?' 'Here are two brothers,' explained Neil. 'Andrew steals Randal's bride, and makes off with her like young Lochinvar, and twenty years later Randal steals Andrew's daughter.

People who have suffered a great deal of unhappiness through death or loneliness are often beset by the fear of losing their dear ones.

Perhaps it was inevitable that this quixotic boy should fall in love with Mary Kerr. She was so small and frail, so pathetic in her helplessness, and in her resignation to her fate. The boatman seemed a bully — the most despicable trait in the boy's eyes; sympathy for her came to him at their first meeting, a passionate pity that wrung his tender heart, and love followed with startling rapidity.

God likes boys better than girls, doesn't He?" asked Anne suddenly. "No," replied Mr. Orme. The question startled him — in fact it horrified him — but he answered it quite quietly. "No," he repeated. "Certainly not." "I thought He did," said Anne. "Boys are more important, aren't they?" "No, we are all of equal importance in the sight of God. He loves us all.

She was grateful to him. So Caroline had said "yes" to Arnold Dering and had done her level best to make him a good wife. She

Husbands are annoying at times, but they are a habit which grows on one, and life is extraordinarily dull without them.

Love isn't warmth and coiness; it's fire and glory!

Our home was very happy. I took it for granted of course, it was only when I got older that I realised all homes were not as happy as ours. Father was good and patient and kind and he never spared himself. I understood Father very well but I knew he did not understand me. He did not understand children. Sometimes he expected too much of them, and sometimes too little. He believed sincerely that " of such are the Kingdom of Heaven.

And I saw how foolish I had been to fuss and worry about 'the right approach' because of course 'the right approach' to all our fellow creatures is just to love them.