Quotes About Love

Let your love be like the misty rains, coming softly, but flooding the river.

Dame, Oh Dios, fuerzas para hacer que mi amor sea fructífero y útil. Dame fuerzas para no despreciar jamás al pobre ni plegar mis rodillas ante el poder insolente. Dame fuerzas para levantar el espíritu bien alto, por encima de las banalidades cotidianas. Dame fuerzas para que me humille, con amor ante ti.

La felicidad es difícil porque somos muy difíciles en materia de felicidad. No hables de felicidad a alguien menos feliz que tú. Cuando no se tiene lo que uno ama, hay que amar lo que se tiene.

La añoranza es calculada mediante cifras también. Distancia multiplicada por el factor Amor.

Well, really, how would you like to make love with someone who kept twittering about his pure mystic modality and wanted to stick flowers in your navel?

How alike are the groans of love, to those of the dying.

No se puede vivir sin amar

The Consul felt a pang. Ah, to have a horse, and gallop away, singing, to someone you loved perhaps, into the heart of all the simplicity and peace in the world; was that not like the opportunity afforded man by life itself? Of course not. Still, just for a moment, it had seemed that it was.

He was safe here; this was the place he loved - sanctuary, the paradise of his despair.

hugged and kissed and touched and loved. He lived life large, never

The most terrible thing about materialism, even more terrible than its proneness to violence, is its boredom, from which sex, alcohol, drugs, all devices for putting out the accusing light of reason and suppressing the unrealizable aspirations of love, offer a prospect of deliverance.

Jesus himself, even in his obscurity, dreaded the gathering of crowds, and where possible avoided them. Everything in Christianity that matters is from individual to individual; collectivities belong to the Devil, and so easily respond to his persuasion. The Devil is a demagogue and sloganeer; Jesus was, and is, concerned with individual souls, with the Living Word. What he gives us is truth carried on the wings of love, not slogans carried on the thrust of power.

No, the truth about love is this: if they'd missed the bus they would now be saying the same things about a person they met five minutes later on the Prom; their love was an accident; their lover just a nobody, gift-wrapped by their own imagination. There was nothing uncanny about it. They should have kept the drawbridge to their hearts closed; kept the moat free from weed.

That was the remarkable thing about paper, you can leave it lying in the back of the cupboard drawer for years and when you take it out it retains a trace of scent, sometimes enough to ambush the heart with the memory of a long-lost love.

It's as if some master perfumer and necromancer had foreseen all the broken promises of your life to come, all the pangs of unrequited love and unreturned letters; the torment of watching a phone that never rings; the bright expectancy of fresh hope at breakfast, in ruins by sunset ... it was as if he took all these things and blended them into a single fragrance and called it whatever the French is for Disappointment — Désolé or Chagrin or something.

Let us be honest with each other. The threat to marriage is not the gays. It is a lack of loving commitment - whether it is found in the form of neglect, indifference, cruelty or adultery, to name just a few manifestations of the loveless desert in which too many marriages come to grief.

We need more light about each other. Light creates understanding, understanding creates love, love creates patience, and patience creates unity.

Maman chérie dont je n'imagine pas, dans mon paradis enfantin, qu'on puisse un jour me séparer.

Every family has its own unique song. Notice what yours is, and sing it loudly and proudly.

You must nourish the body with healthy food, the heart with joy, compassion and love, the mind with knowledge and the spirit with equanimity and self-awareness. . . . If you fill yourself with other kinds of satisfaction, food will no longer be a problem.

You trample on hearts as if they're grapes and you're making wine.

Yes, only a fool would have slipped into her deepest reaches and grasped the woman within. The whole of her so fine and glorious, he had reverently fondled each nuance of her mind.

I pulled him closer to me, wrapping my arms around him, kissing him just as desperately as he was kissing me. Like if we could just love long enough and hard enough and deep enough, then the world outside would never, could never hurt us.

You're a Nought and I'm a Cross and there's nowhere for us to be, nowhere for us to go where we'd be left in peace...That's why I started crying. That's why I couldn't stop. For all the things we might've had and all the things we're never going to have.