Quotes About Relationship

no hay mensaje, hay mensajeros y eso es el mensaje, así como el amor es el que ama Capítulo 79

Lo que llamábamos amarnos fue quizá que yo estaba de pie delante de vos

hija, hasta entonces inadvertidos, pasaron

Yo dormiría mejor después de besarla y consolarla y repetir todo lo que ya le han dicho éstos.»

convencida como yo de que un encuentro casual era lo menos casual en nuestras vidas

And I felt antagonism for all these things when I was with La Maga, for we loved each other in a sort of dialectic of magnet and iron filings, attack and defense, handball and wall.

Y era tan natural cruzar la calle, subir los peldaños del puente, entrar en su delgada cintura y acercarme a la Maga que sonreía sin sorpresa, convencida como yo de que un encuentro casual era lo menos casual en nuestras vidas

no sé por qué te cuento esto. –Porque sabés que no me importa, supongo.

Amor mío, no te quiero por vos ni por mi ni por los dos juntos, no te quiero porque la sangre me llame a quererte, te quiero porque no sos mia, porque estas del otro lado, ahí donde me invitas a saltar y no puedo dar el salto porque en lo mas profundo de la posesión no estas en mi, no te alcanzo, no paso de tu cuerpo, de tu risa...

Si te caes te levanto y sino me acuesto contigo

I listen to the people. That was a big reason for my life, maybe the main reason, I'm singing because I love it when people say to me, 'Thank you.' I thank them. It's a marriage.

I wished my wife to be not so much as suspected.

But I want you around even when I don't need you. —Jeremy Richards

Marriages may not be made in heaven, but they should end up there!

You said i could call you when i wanted but that you wouldn't call me. you have to decide where and when, you said. if you leave it up to me i'll want to see you every day. At least you were honest, which is more than i can say for me.

I just want some space to myself every now and then. Every time I'm with you I have this sense that you want something from me.

I sat down next to her. Took her hand. This can work, I said. All we have to do is try.

A father is a hard thing to compass.

Instead of lowering your head and copping to it like a man, you pick up the journal as one might hold a bady's beshattered diaper, as one might pinch a recently benutted condom. You glance at the offending passages. Then you look at her and smile a smile your dissembling face will remember until the day you die. Baby, you say, baby, this is part of my novel. This is how you lose her.

Maybe we met out here and fell in love over bad barbecue.

Then we fucked so that we could pretend that nothing hurtful had just happened.

You go to more doctors. You celebrate Arlenny's Ph.D. defense. And then one June night you scribble the ex's name and: The half life of love is forever.

You try every trick in the book to keep her. You write her letters. You drive her to work. You quote Neruda.

Nuestra relación no era el sol, la luna y las estrellas pero tampoco era una mierda.