Quotes About Relationship

But all he could think of was what Sabina would have said about it. Everything he did, he did for Sabina, the way Sabina would have liked to see it done. It was a perfectly innocent form of infidelity and one eminently suited to Franz, who would never have done his bespectacled student-mistress any harm. He nourished the cult of Sabina more as a religion than as love

You can't measure the mutual affection of two human beings by the number of words they exchange

I sometimes have the feeling that her entire life was merely a continuation of her mother's, much as the course of a ball on the billiard table is merely the continuation of the player's arm movement.

not even one's own pain weigh so heavy as the pain one feels with someone , for someone

You know what it's like when two people start a conversation. First one of them does all the talking, the other breaks in with That's just like me, I... and goes on himself until his partner finds a chance to say, That's just like me, I... The That's just like me, I... 's may look like a form of agreement, a way of carrying the other party's idea a step further, but that is an illusion...

There was not a scrap of tangible evidence to show that he had spent the most wonderful year of his life with her. Which only increased his desire to remain faithful to her.

Before long, unfortunately, she began to be jealous herself, and Tomas saw her jealousy not as a Nobel Prize, but as a burden, a burden he would be saddled with until not long before his death.

perhaps all the questions we ask for love, to measure, test, prob, and save it, have the additional effect of cutting it short. Perhaps the reason we are unable to love is that we yearn to be loved. that is, we demand something (love) from our partner instead of delivering ourselves up to him demand-free and asking for nothing but his company

love doesn't make itself felt in the desire for copulation ( a desire that extends to an infinite number of women) but in the desire for shared sleep (a desire limited to one woman)

Turning points in the evolution of a relationship are not always the result of dramatic events; they often stem from something that at first seems completely inconsequential.

Es que hasta la alegría que produce la presencia del hombre a quien se ama se siente mejor a solas. Si la presencia fuera de el continua, sólo estaría presente en su constante transcurrir. Detenerla sólo es posible en los ratos de soledad

It seemed to me an error in reasoning for a man to isolate a woman he loves from all the circumstances in which he met her and in which she lives, to try, with dogged inner concentration, to purify her of everything that is not her self, which is to say also of the story that they lived through together and that gives their love its shape.

Now he too tried hard to think of something else (it was the only thing they had in common), so as to be able to go on making love to her.

Alas, I found no guarantee I would have acted any better; but how has that affected my relationship with others? The consciousness of my own baseness has done nothing to reconcile me to the baseness of others. Nothing is more repugnant to me than brotherly feelings grounded in the common baseness people see in one another. I have no desire for that slimy brotherhood.

Pero cuando a uno le llama la atención una mujer, hace todo lo posible para entrar en relación con ella, al menos de un modo indirecto, mediante alguna estratagema, para tomar contacto al menos desde lejos con su mundo y ponerlo en movimiento.

For seven years he had lived bound to her,his every step subject to her scrutiny. She might as well have chained iron balls to his ankles. Suddenly his step was much lighter. He soared. He had entered Parmenides' magic field: he was enjoying the sweet lightness of being''.

Her weakness was aggressive and kept forcing him to capitulate until eventually he lost his strength and was transformed into the rabbit in her arms .

No one cares about the artist Kafka, who troubles us with his puzzling aesthetic, because we'd rather have Kafka as the fusion of experience and work, the Kafka who had a difficult relationship with his father and didn't know how to deal with women.

Only her husband had kept asking her questions, because love is a continual interrogation. I don't know of a better definition of love.

The situation is very slightly solemn and thus embarrassing, as are all such situations when after the initial lovemaking, the lovers confront a future they are suddenly required to take on.

he was happier with Sabina the invisible goddess than the Sabina who had accompanied him throughout the world and whose love he constantly feared losing.

Love is a battle? said Franz. Well, I don't feel at all like fighting. And he left.

To love someone out of compassion means not really to love.

The only person who had ever really interrogated her was her husband, and that was because love is a constant interrogation.