Quotes About Love

Don't take the people you love for granted. Don't ever be scared to love someone with your whole heart. Be transparent.

I stand back from him. I don't understand. You've seen parts of me that are not perfect, and you still love me?

This is what it feels like to love someone. The fear that they could be harmed and you'd be helpless keeps you up at night. It's a rift in your logic. It turns you from sensible into someone who's inside out.

Yes, romance novels are extreme. The situations are turned up to eleven and everyone is beautiful without dieting or exercise and the sex is always amazing, but when I strip all that away what I get is that all of this"—Sasha motions to everything around us, and I'm assuming she means the world and our existence and not this particular Mexican restaurant—"that all of this is nothing without love.

There is more good than bad. Life and love win if you let them. If you believe in them.

So begins the exhausting analysis of the cavalcade of unknowable smiles and cryptic sentences uttered by someone your newly interested in. When everything boils down to a succession of enigmatic moments. Moments played and replayed from the perspective you attribute to your lover-to-be, but that are actually from the part of you that's sure you're far too flawed to be loved.

I think, How small my life seemed then. How little I wanted for myself. How little I expected of myself and those who claimed to love me.

love is not reasonable or measured. It undoes you. It's in the imperfections in each other, in ourselves, where we find our humanity. It's in our dents and scars where the deepest connections are made. Real love resides in the parts of me I think no one wants to see.

In becoming someone's anyone, I became no one's only one.

In the quiet of the kitchen my mind wanders. Fried chicken and potato salad. What's this man trying to re-create? A picnic? An outing? A meal his grandma made? A chess pie is old school. It's basically a pecan pie without the pecans. Syrupy sweet. I think about the memories he must have about this meal. Innocent. Pure. Happy.

Underneath […] I find what Sasha has entitled "The Rules of Romance." The are as follows: 1. Everyone deserves to be worshipped. 2. There's a hero inside all of us. 3. The hero and heroine are fine on their own but know they're better together. 4. Risk your heart, it's worth it. 5. Always believe in a happy ending.

I want to ask him if he thinks I can get used to being seen like this, being loved like this. I want to ask him why I can be myself around him. Why I still belong to myself around him.

The complicated algorithms of the pre-relationship: 1 mix tape + 2(accidental run-ins in the hallways – serious ex-girlfriends/possible fiancée(?)) + 1 set of in-laws + X(number of sexual partners – one night stands) will = eternal bliss. But the truth is that when it's right—when it's really right—that algorithm fades away and the equation simply becomes 1 + 1 = 2.

Love isn't about sparks. It's about not wanting to be without someone...and feeling complete when you're with them.

They weren't a centuries old hunter and a seventeen year old girl, sitting here at the edge of the world. They were just two people, Bonnie and Damon.

I'll fight dragons, just like any knight for his lady. I'll prove myself. You'll be proud of me.

In Mary-Lynette's mind he did look like a knight off on a quest for his fair lady – no weapons or armour. But then Ash started walking backwards, waving at the same time and it ruined the effect. "Even when we're apart we'll be looking at the same sky!" he cried. "What a line!" Mary-Lynette yelled back.

love has no end, because the Beloved has no end.

The Sufi relates to God not as a judge, nor as a father figure, nor as the creator, but as our own Beloved, who is so close, so near, so tender. In the states of nearness the lover experiences an intimacy with the Beloved which carries the softness and ecstasy of love.

Love is the dominant force, and in its light there is no deception.

Love has come and it flows like blood beneath my skin, through my veins. It has emptied me of my self and filled me with the Beloved. The Beloved has penetrated every cell of my body. Of myself there remains only a name, everything else is Him. (Rumi)

In the West we are so addicted to the notion of progress that we project this idea onto our spiritual life, and can become very confused by the dawning realization that He whom we seek is always with us, that we are always close to Him but do not know it. The spiritual path is a process of revealing this nearness, the intimacy of love that is always with us.

One might have practiced on a spiritual path for thirty years, or one might be walking through a dappled wood, or one might have just met a friend who will be a friend forever—suddenly love is present, arriving unexpectedly, as a tender feeling, a fragrance in the heart.

The bond between the lover and the Beloved is the strongest link with the beyond, and it is through this link that grace can flow into the world. (p. 42)