Quotes About Love

The Gypsy girl carved love letters into trees, filling the forest with notes for him.

Love me, because love does not exist, and I tried everything.

He was sculpting me. He was trying to make me so he could fall in love with me ..

Do you know that I am the Gypsy girl and you are Safran, and that I am Kolker and you are Brod, and that I am your grandmother and you are Grandfather, and that I am Alex and you are you, and that I am you and you are me? Do you not comprehend that we can bring each other safety and peace? When we were under the stars in Trachimbrod, did you not feel it then? Do not present not-truths to me. Not to me.

And when she said, Father, I love you , she was neither naive nor dishonest, but the opposite: she was wise and truthful enough to lie.

So, then why am I your son? Because Mom and I made love, and one of my sperm fertilized one of her eggs. Excuse me while I regurgitate. Don't act your age.

SADNESSES OF THE COVENANT: Sadness of God's love; Sadness of God's back [sic]; Favourite-child sadness; Sadness of b[ein]g sad in front of one's God; Sadness of the opposite of belief [sic]; What if? Sadness; Sadness of God alone in heaven; Sadness of a God who would need people to pray to Him...

Do not have any other loves before me in your heart. Do not take my name in vain. Do not kill me. Observe me, and keep me holy.

that's all anyone wants from anyone else, not love itself but the knowledge that love is there

She laughed, I love it when she laughs, although the truth is I am not in love with her.

Hiçbir ÅŸeyi özlediÄŸin bir ÅŸeyden daha fazla sevemezsin.

Without love, you die. With love, you also die. Not all deaths are equal.

Brod discovered 613 sadnesses, each perfectly unique, each a singular emotion, no more similar to any other sadness than to anger, ecstasy, guilt, or frustration. Mirror Sadness. Sadness of Domesticated Birds. Sadness of Being Sad in Front of One's Parent. Humor Sadness. Sadness of Love Without Release.

E' la tragedia di amare, non si può amare niente più di quello che ci manca.

Love me, because love doesn't exist, and I have tried everything that does.

I like to see people reunited, maybe that's a silly thing, but what can I say, I like to see people run to each other, I like the kissing and the crying, I like the impatience, the stories that the mouth can't tell fast enough, the ears that aren't big enough, the eyes that can't take in all of the change, I like the hugging, the bringing together, the end of missing someone, I sit on the side with a coffee and write in my daybook

Does it make you sad that we love the kids more than we love each other?" That exact line—those words in that order—had been in the script for months.

No father knows that he is carrying his son up the stairs for the final time

how can you say I love you to someone you love?

Seven months later, June 18, 1941, as the first display of German bombing lit the Trachimbrod skies electric, as my grandfather had his first orgasm (his first and only pleasure, of which she was not the cause), she slit her wrist with a knife that had been made dull carving love letters.

I love that story, because it shows how ignorant people can be. And also because I love tortoises.

Every morning, she'd clean me of my excrement, bathe me, dress me, and see that my hair was combed like a sane man's, even when it meant an elbow to the nose or a broken rib. She polished the blade. She wore my teeth marks on her body like other wives might wear jewelry. The hole didn't' matter. We paid it no attention. We shared a room. She was with me. She did all of those things and so many more, things I would never tell anyone, and she never even loved me. Now that's love.

Yankel's lipstick autobiography came flaking off his bedroom ceiling, falling gently like blood-stained snow to his bed and floor. You are Yankel. You love Brod. You are a Sloucher. You were once married, but she left you. You don't believe in an afterlife.

Nos llevamos el cachorro a casa. Lo (la) abracé desde el otro lado de la habitación. Luego, como ella no me dio ningún motivo para pensar que perdería algún dedo en el proceso, dejé que comiera de mi mano. Después le dejé que la lamiera. Y que me lamiera la cara. Y después lamí yo la suya. Y ahora me encantan todos los perros y somos felices para siempre.