Quotes About Love

Bunny to be comfortable.

The Velveteen Rabbit By Margery Williams

Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real." "Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit. "Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt.

You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in your joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand. ? The Velveteen Rabbit

Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand." ? Margery Williams Bianco, The Velveteen Rabbit

Poor me. No one understands me. They don't love me. My family is the cause of my misery. I can't believe he gave that job to her, not to me." Victims may want to be rescued, but they don't want to be reminded of their inadequacies. Not taking responsibility for their actions is the hallmark of Victim behavior. Another defining characteristic is oversensitivity and clinging to their glass-half-empty perspective of life.

mingled love and shame for our people, a mingled love and terror of white culture. And then (as if the result of these others), despair and a furious will to extinguish the self. My people's enemies have done this to me. But so have my own loved ones. My enemies took too much. My loved ones asked too much.

mingled love and shame for our people, a mingled love and terror of white culture. And then (as if the result of these others), despair and a furious will to extinguish the self. My people's enemies have done this to me. But so have my own loved ones. My enemies took too much. My loved ones asked too much. Let me say with care that the blame is not symmetrical: my enemies forced my loved ones to ask too much of me.

You may never be entirely happy; few people are. You may never achieve your heart's desire in this world, for people seldom do. Sit by enough deathbeds, Branza, and you will hear your fill of stories of missed chances, and wrong turnings, and spurned opportunities for love. It is required of you only to be here, not to be happy.

A good heart is when a girl that you loved, a girl who has pained you and chosen another instead, places in your hands the means to her own ruin. And you could tell it to everyone. But you keep silent, because you can do that, too, and a good heart would do that, a fine man, a man who truly loved her....Let her be lucky now."- A Good Heart.

Home is home, no? - whatever layabouts you live with, whatever tempers and timidities. I was glad to glimpse them, and glad to go to my own bed among them, with the right smell and the right hollows holding me . . .

He was fine, and foreign, and he did not belong here. I held him close, not crushing, not waking him, letting him sleep, and I suffered. I had never felt such feelings before. I would do anything for him; I would do anything. Anything that was asked of me, that would increase his happiness or health, I would do, and willingly. So I told myself, rocking him, the winter sky white at the window.

You may never be entirely happy; few people are. You may never achieve your heart's desire in this world, for people seldom do. Sit be enough deathbeds, Branza, and you will hear your fill of stories of missed chances, and wrong turnings, and spurned opportunities for love.

Love is never easy or guaranteed. Real love is a leap, you know. As you get older, you learn how hard it is, how hard everything is, how we never know if there's ground beneath our feet, or if we'll be hurt or heartbroken. But we leap anyway. You have to take that leap.

Clifford, I was just saying how there aren't good words for family, for step-half-siblings? How complex family is," Liliana said in her fragile voice. "That's true," Clifford said. "Complicated. Messy. Endless fun." He smiled slightly and looked around the room with an expression I liked-as if the world was enormously absurd, and he sort of enjoyed it and hated it at the same time.

This was a crush? It felt like gum stuck in my throat. Gum stuck in my heart. Mucking everything up. Crush . It felt crushing. Not in a good way. In an eating-too-much cookie-dough-and-getting-a-stomachache way. Too overwhelming.

If grief had a permanence, then didn't also love?

It's about who I am right now. That I have value and worth as a person just being who I am. I don't have to do things or achieve something for approval, for love. For you to love me.

I'm not something you fix like a broken plate or revise like a term paper. I'm a person. You love a person by accepting who they are, not constantly fixing them or trying to shape or change or teach them.

Margot Benary-Isbert

A family is like a good roof overhead; as long as it's there you're safe from all kinds of storms and bad weather.

loves was about the people who loved you

She knew she oughtn't to scold but she couldn't bear such a hyperbole. People couldn't live without food and air or shelter and money. Romantic love was an extra, nice if it came along, but definitely superfluous to the main requirements of existence.

he had found himself thinking that marriage was not merely an empty ritual. It was a plea for patience on the part of those involved, and for the mercy on the part of bystanders.