Quotes About Lover

O Godhead of glory and anguish! O Christ shone through Magdalen's tears! Thy sons on the universe languish In iron bands strong as the spheres; With virtue Thy likeness we cover, With priestcraft we mock at Thy power, And the meanest on earth is a lover, As vile as a flower.

I intend that my last work shall be a cookbook composed of memories and desires. ---Alexander Dumas, 1869, as quoted in Life Is Meals: A Food Lover's Book of Days by James and Kay Salter

He fingered the note, as if it were a talisman. A letter from a lover is always like that, he thought. It carries the sympathetic magic of the hand that wrote it; that hand. He

The saints believe what every lover knows Who, gazing on one face, can plainly see The glory latent in the flesh, a rose. If love is what leads lovers to compose Their songs of praise and deeds of charity, Then saints believe what every lover knows.

Turn not your mind from fears, but embrace them as your lover. Let terror posses your body and course through your veins.

I swallowed hard. Was I ready for the Wager of Love? It was still a gamble and there would be no guarantee of happiness, but I would not remain one of the Cowards of Love scattered around me. I knew that one could not be the Empire's greatest lover without truly knowing how to love. And yet I no longer even aspired to this hollow title. I wanted only what every common husband can achieve--to be the greatest lover of my very own wife.

He certainly didn't understand the conflict a woman might experience juggling the call of the lover and the call of the easel. To say nothing of the call of the baby.

This, they say, is the condition of the woman as artist. Woman? Lover? Mother? Artist? The distinctions are false. A woman is all of these, and reduced to none. To be an artist is not a matter of surmounting, or refusing, or even of juggling, but of bringing the values and knowledge of heart and belly into the work, into the image, into the paint.

True beauty dwells in deep retreats, Whose veil is unremoved Till heart with heart in concord beats, And the lover is beloved.

And were an epitaph to be my story I'd have a short one ready for my own. I would have written of me on my stone: I had a lover's quarrel with the world.

Which memories will we take with us? The swimming lyricism of paintings, a last breath of a stanza, the mute kiss of a lover? And there is nothing compared to this: lying awake under the truth of you, the wide eyed sleeplessness of lost dreams. — Jill Battson, from "A Goodbye Poem," Canadian Poetry Online

Aquarius is less of a "free lover" than she pretends to be. She just likes to fuck her friends every once in a while.

Loneliness is the alchemy that turns an adolescent into an adult. Adolescents are profoundly lonely, but believe that their pangs will be solved by finding a lover, while the adult recognizes loneliness as the defining term of the human condition.

Giles, if you were teasing about teaching me how to kiss, I'll never forgive you." "Perish the thought." Attractive self-mockery twisted those full lips. "How the devil can I resist turning you into another man's dream lover?

His voice shifted into a sexual purr. "I love you. And I've waited a lifetime to be your lover. But you were too young, Lady." She raised her head, her body stiff with dignity. "I wasn't too young here, in the abyss." Slowly, he continued moving around the altar. "Your body had been violated. Your mind had shattered. But even if that hadn't been the case, you were still too young—even here in the abyss.

The beloved's innocence brutalizes the lover. As the singing of a mad person behind you on the train enrages you, its beautiful animal-like teeth shining amid black planes of paint. As Helen enrages history. Senza uscita.

She is so naked and singular She is the sum of yourself and your dream. Climb her like a monument, step after step. She is solid. As for me, I am a watercolor. I wash off. (For My Lover, Returning To His Wife)

I think I had a more European outlook about the body and sex. The body is in no way dirty, and sex is something beautiful to give to and share with a lover. It has nothing to do with promiscuity, because I only believe in being in love with one man at a time.

I'm a big animal fanatic.

I'm a fighter. I'm a lover.

It was that surrender he needed. That complete feminine submission to every stroke, every caress, ever naughty act. Only in that submission would the subconscious trust, the bond he needed between them, come. He wanted her to trust, to know, to instinctively understand that he was more than just her lover; he was her other half. The one she told her secrets to. The one, she made secrets with.

Between the self and the other, between the visionary and the psychopath, between the lover and his love, between the overworld and the underworld, falls the Shadow.

I know that I have been a fool, a madman, to believe that the snow could have been animated, that the marble could grow warm; but what would you expect? The lover easily believes in love, nor has my journey been entirely in vain, since I behold you now.

Love is a gamble, the stake is the human heart. The lover holds his or her cards close, lays them out one at a time and watches each move of the other player. To whom do you go first? This is the 'tell' of love. When a thing happens, be it good or bad, when you pick up the telephone or push through a crowd, who is it you most want to reach?