Quotes About Love

Love flies out the window when poverty comes in the door, they say, and it's true.

I know that I am liked by other people, but I seem to be deficient in the faculty to love others. (I should add that I have very strong doubts as to whether even human beings really possess this faculty.)

What uneasiness lies in being loved.

Logic, inevitably, is the love of logic. It is not the love for living human beings.

There was something wrong about thse people. But perhaps, just as it is true of my love, they could not go on living except in the way they do. If it is true that man, once born into the world, must somehow live out his life, perhaps the appearance that people make in order to go through with it, even if it is as ugly as their appearance, should not be despised. To be alive. To be alive. An intolerably immense undertaking before which one can only gasp in apprehension.

Women found in me a man who could keep a love secret.

I want to love everyone', I thought, almost tearfully. If you stare at the sky, it changes little by little. Gradually it turns bluish. [..] I had never seen anything as beautiful as the translucent leaves and grass. Gently, I reached out to the touch of the grass.

It was not so much shame that I experienced as the feeling that the actual world was an unfamiliar organism utterly unlike the world of my imagination. I was assailed by a sensation of desolation more intense than anything I had previously known, as if I had been abandoned at dusk in an autumnal wasteland where no answering sound would ever come, however often I called. Is that, I wonder, what is meant by the pat phrase "disappointed love"?

When I lay next to her my body was enveloped in her current, which mingled with my own harsher current of gloom like a " withered leaf settling to rest on the stones at the bottom of a pool." I had freed myself from fear and uneasiness.

Any connoisseur knows you've got to be drunk to really enjoy a good romance.

They say that love flies out the window when poverty comes in the door, but people generally get the sense backwards.

spread my usual smokescreen of farce. "They say that love flies out the window when poverty comes in the door, but people generally get the sense backwards. It doesn't mean that when a man's money runs out he's shaken off by women. When he runs out of money, he naturally is in the dumps. He's no good for anything. The strength goes out of his laugh, he becomes strangely soured. Finally, in desperation, he shakes off the woman.

The true substance of love lies in the act of howling words of love with a desperation of a man jumping into the high seas.

Bu, benim insanlarda son sevgi aray???md?. Bir yandan insanlardan son derece korkarken, bir yandan da insanlar? bir türlü akl?mdan ç?karamad?m. Öylece, ?aklabanl?k sayesinde ince bir çizgiyle insanlarla olan ba??m? koruyabildim. D??ar?ya kar??, durmaks?z?n gülümseyen yüzümü gösterirken, iç dünyam ölüydü.

I should have died sooner. But there was one thing: Mama's love. When I thought of that I couldn't die. It's true, as I have said, that just as man has the right to live as he chooses, he has the right to die when he pleases, and yet as long as my mother remained alive, I felt that the right to death would have to be left in abeyance, for to exercise it would have meant killing her too.

I'm told that some men heat their bath water by burning the love letters they get from women

You miss her, don't you?" "Yes.

I had the feeling that were Mother to die, my own flesh would melt away with her.

O insanlar kusurluydular. Ama belki de benim a?k?m için ya?ad???m gibi onlar da bu biçimde ya?ayarak ayakta durabiliyorlard?. ?ayet insan, hayata geldi?inde ?u ya da bu biçimde ya?amaya devam edecekse sona varmak için büründü?ü görünüm çirkin bile olsa küçümsenmemelidir. Hayat?n? ya?amak. Ya?amak. Muazzam bir giri?im, insan? endi?eye bo?acak kadar.

I was frightened even by God. I could not believe in His love, only in His punishment. Faith. That, I felt was the act of facing the tribunal of justice with one's head bowed to receive the scourge of God. I could believe in hell, but it was impossible for me believe in the existence of heaven.

He'll be back soon," she said, her face grave. It suddenly occurred to me that what people call "honesty" might well refer to just such an expression. I wondered if what the word originally meant was not something lovable like that expression, rather than the stern virtue smelling of textbooks of morality.

Perhaps, then, most lovers of drink are not what we today would call egoists but rather guardians of the sort of generous spirit that inspires all of us to toast, at times, our neighbor's happiness. We do this because we want to drink, yes, but if our neighbor gets drunk along with us, our pleasure is double.

Destruction is tragic and piteous and beautiful. The dream of destroying, building anew, perfecting. Perhaps even, once one has destroyed, the day of perfecting may never come, but in the passion of love I must destroy. I must start a revolution.

I felt, rather, as if being next to her in itself made it unnecessary to worry.