Quotes About Love

You can fall in love and make love many times but there is only one bullet with your name etched on the side. And if you are lucky enough to be shot with that bullet then the wound never heals.

There is no end of things in the heart. ...she understood it to mean that if you took something to heart, really brought it inside those red velvet folds, then it would always be there for you. No matter what happened, it would be there waiting. She said this could mean a person, a place, a dream. A mission. Anything sacred. She told me that it is all connected in those secret folds. Always. It is all part of the same and will always be there, carrying the same beat as your heart.

E mai mult decât frumoas?, se gândi, e ca un cadou din partea lui Dumnezeu.

But who ever heeds the voice of reason when love whispers, softly persuasive, in the other ear?

Love can corrupt and destroy, distort and betray – this I know from my own bitter experience; but I now also know that, without love, we are nothing.

He paused, looked Thad in the eye, and told him through a sarcastic smirk, "I see you brought your two daddies tonight. Are they proud of their boy toy?

Mary Tryphena said, It's the only thing the world gives us, you know. The right to say yes or no to love.

He'd almost forgotten how much he loved the cigarettes, what a poisonous comfort they were.

I have no useful theories about love and marriage.

There is just this for consolation: an hour here or there, when our lives seem, against all odds and expectations, to burst open and give us everything we've ever imagined , though everyone but children (and perhaps even they) knows these hours will inevitably be followed by others, far darker and more difficult. Still, we cherish the city, the morning, we hope, more than anything, for more. Heaven only knows why we love it so.

I don't have any regrets, really, except that one. I wanted to write about you, about us, really. Do you know what I mean? I wanted to write about everything, the life we're having and the lives we might have had. I wanted to write about all the ways we might have died.

I don't think two people could have been happier than we have been.

That is what we do. That is what people do. They stay alive for each other.

St. John of the Cross: "Where there is no love, put love, and you will find love.

My Jesus, I have now seen that everything in the world is vanity, that only one thing is necessary: to love You and serve You with fidelity, to resemble and make myself entirely like unto You.

Human hearts love one day but are indifferent the next. God alone doesn't change.

She says that Our Lord told her, "if you want to be like Me, then take up your cross with love and joy.

long for the day when I can go to Carmel to concern myself only with Him, to abase myself in Him and so to live His life alone: to love and suffer to save souls. Yes, I thirst for souls because I know that it is what my Jesus craves more than anything else. Oh, how I love Him!

Who can refuse the hand of the All Powerful One who abases Himself to the most unworthy of His creatures? How happy I am, my dear sister! I have been captured in the loving nets of the divine Fisherman. I would like to make you understand this happiness.

The heavenly inhabitants are all blissfully joyful and will remain so eternally because they have the assurance that nothing will ever interfere with or separate them from their union with God, who is the source or fountain of love, joy and happiness.

To die is to be eternally immersed in Love.

To live always joyfully. God is infinite joy" (May 14, 1919). "When one loves, everything is joy. The cross doesn't weigh down. Martyrdom isn't felt. One lives more in heaven than on earth. The life of Carmel is to love. This is our vocation" (May, 1919).

I love our shared island, our shared Ireland and its core decency. I love it for its imagination and its celebration of the endless possibilities for our people.

About the main character approaching death in old age, observed by her husband . . .] He saw that she had already laid down a large portion of her life long ago. Piece by piece she had given it away as she wrestled with existence, as her self was absorbed as nourishment into his life and the life of the children and the community. And laid down most piercingly, as she abandoned, one by one, the shapes of the dreams she had planned. Only to take them up again in other forms.