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We've got this gift of love, but love is like a precious plant. You can't just accept it and leave it in the cupboard or just think it's going to get on by itself. You've got to keep watering it. You've got to really look after it and nurture it.

Lord, grant that I might not so much seek to be loved as to love.
It makes no difference how deeply seated may be the trouble, how hopeless the outlook, how muddled the tangle, how great the mistake. A sufficient realization of love will dissolve it all.
The pain of love is the pain of being alive. It is a perpetual wound.
You will find, as you look back upon your life, that the moments when you really lived are the moments when you have done things in the spirit of love.
Love is not enough. It must be the foundation, the cornerstone -- but not the complete structure. It is much too pliable, too yielding.
Love is a fire. But whether it is going to warm your hearth or burn down your house, you can never tell.
Every day I live I am more convinced that the waste of life lies in the love we have not given, the powers we have not used, the selfish prudence that will risk nothing and which, shirking pain, misses happiness as well.
The way to love anything is to realize that it might be lost.
He that falls in love with himself will have no rivals.
We are never so defenseless against suffering as when we love, never so forlornly unhappy as when we have lost our love object or its love.
A coward is incapable of exhibiting love; it is the prerogative of the brave.
Love is a promise, love is a souvenir, once given never forgotten, never let it disappear.
I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear.
Do you want me to tell you something really subversive? Love is everything it's cracked up to be. That's why people are so cynical about it. It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. And the trouble is, if you don't risk anything, you risk even more.
Love is never lost. If not reciprocated, it will flow back and soften and purify the heart.
Love is the only bow of life's dark cloud. It is the Morning and Evening Star. It shines upon the cradle of the babe, and sheds its radiance upon the quiet tomb. It is the Mother of Art, inspirer of poet, patriot, and philosopher. It is the air and light of every heart, builder of every home, kinder of every fire on every hearth, It was the first dream of immortality. It fills the world with melody. Love is the magician, the enchanter, that changes worthless things to joy, and makes right royal kings of common clay.
Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own.
The story of a love is not important -- what is important is that one is capable of love. It is perhaps the only glimpse we are permitted of eternity.
Love, love, love -- all the wretched cant of it, masking egotism, lust, masochism, fantasy under a mythology of sentimental postures, a welter of self-induced miseries and joys, blinding and masking the essential personalities in the frozen gestures of courtship, in the kissing and the dating and the desire, the compliments and the quarrels which vivify its barrenness.
Love is life. And if you miss love, you miss life.
Take away love and our earth is a tomb.
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach.
God loves each of us as if there were only one of us.
What does love look like? It has the hands to help others. It has the feet to hasten to the poor and needy. It has eyes to see misery and want. It has the ears to hear the sighs and sorrows of men. That is what love looks like.
A false enchantment can all too easily last a lifetime.
Oh, love is real enough; you will find it someday, but it has one archenemy -- and that is life.
Well-ordered self-love is right and natural.
There is love of course. And then there's life, its enemy.
The more connections you and your lover make, not just between your bodies, but between your minds, your hearts, and your souls, the more you will strengthen the fabric of your relationship, and the more real moments you will experience together.
In real love you want the other person's good. In romantic love, you want the other person.
Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart.
Not all of us have to possess earthshaking talent. Just common sense and love will do.
The sweetest joy, the wildest woe is love.
When first we met we did not guess that Love would prove so hard a master.
A proof that experience is of no use, is that the end of one love does not prevent us from beginning another.
The only victory over love is flight.
Love seeks no cause beyond itself and no fruit; it is its own fruit, its own enjoyment. I love because I love; I love in order that I may love.
To love someone is to isolate him from the world, wipe out every trace of him, dispossess him of his shadow, drag him into a murderous future. It is to circle around the other like a dead star and absorb him into a black light.
The greatest weakness of most humans is their hesitancy to tell others how much they love them while they're still alive.
The fate of love is that it always seems too little or too much.
What the world really needs is more love and less paper work.
What I needed most was to love and to be loved, eager to be caught. Happily I wrapped those painful bonds around me; and sure enough, I would be lashed with the red-hot pokers or jealousy, by suspicions and fear, by burst of anger and quarrels.
i wish i had the guts to walk away and forget about what we had. but, i canít because i know you won't come after me.. and i guess that's what hurts the most.
Resolve to be thyself: and know, that he who finds himself, loses his misery.
Between lovers a little confession is a dangerous thing.
In every loving woman there is a priestess of the past -- a pious guardian of some affection, of which the object has disappeared.
When once estrangement has arisen between those who truly love each other, everything seems to widen the breach.
Love is what we are born with. Fear is what we learn. The spiritual journey is the unlearning of fear and prejudices and the acceptance of love back in our hearts. Love is the essential reality and our purpose on earth. To be consciously aware of it, to experience love in ourselves and others, is the meaning of life. Meaning does not lie in things. Meaning lies in us.
Yet each man kills the thing he loves from all let this be heard some does it with a bitter look some with a flattering word the coward does it with a kiss the brave man with the sword.
I never loved another person the way I loved myself.
Love is an act of endless forgiveness, a tender look which becomes a habit.
When you recover or discover something that nourishes your soul and bring joy, care enough about yourself to make room for it in your life.
Love yourself unconditionally, just as you love those closest to you despite their faults.
He who falls in love with himself will have no rivals.
i don't miss you.. i miss who i thought you were.
Nobody can teach you love. Love you have to find yourself, within your being, by raising your consciousness to higher levels. And when love comes, there is no question of responsibility. You do things because you enjoy doing them for the person you love. You are not obliging the person, you are not even wanting anything in return, not even gratitude. On the contrary, you are grateful that the person has allowed you to do something for him. It was your joy, sheer joy. Love knows nothing of responsibility. It does many things, it is very creative; it shares all that it has, but it is not a responsibility, remember. Responsibility is an ugly word in comparison to love. Love is natural. Responsibility is created by the cunning priests, politicians who want to dominate you in the name of God, in the name of the nation, in the name of family, in the name of religion -- any fiction will do. But they don't talk about love. On the contrary, they are all against love, because love is unable to be controlled by them. A man of love acts out of his own heart, not according to any moral code. A man of love will not join the army because it is his responsibility to fight for his nation. A man of love will say there are no nations, and there is no question of any fight.
The minute I heard my first love story I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was. Lovers don't finally meet somewhere. They're in each other all along.
The hunger for love is much more difficult to remove than the hunger for bread.
Together, we'll live with the sadness. I'll love you with all the madness in my soul.
Clenched Soul

We have lost even this twilight.
No one saw us this evening hand in hand
while the blue night dropped on the world.

I have seen from my window
the fiesta of sunset in the distant mountain tops.
Sometimes a piece of sun
burned like a coin in my hand.

I remembered you with my soul clenched
in that sadness of mine that you know.

Where were you then?
Who else was there?
Saying what?
Why will the whole of love come on me suddenly
when I am sad and feel you are far away?

The book fell that always closed at twilight
and my blue sweater rolled like a hurt dog at my feet.

Always, always you recede through the evenings
toward the twilight erasing statues.
Saddest Poem

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.

Write, for instance: "The night is full of stars,
and the stars, blue, shiver in the distance."

The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

On nights like this, I held her in my arms. I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her.
How could I not have loved her large, still eyes?

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her.

To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass.

What does it matter that my love couldn't keep her.
The night is full of stars and she is not with me.

That's all. Far away, someone sings. Far away.
My soul is lost without her.

As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her.
My heart searches for her and she is not with me.

The same night that whitens the same trees.
We, we who were, we are the same no longer.

I no longer love her, true, but how much I loved her.
My voice searched the wind to touch her ear.

Someone else's. She will be someone else's. As she once
belonged to my kisses.
Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, true, but perhaps I love her.
Love is so short and oblivion so long.

Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,
my soul is lost without her.

Although this may be the last pain she causes me,
and this may be the last poem I write for her.
Know that you are your greatest enemy, but also your greatest friend.
If we discovered we only had five minutes left to say all we wanted to say, every telephone booth would be occupied by people telling other people that they loved them.
Love will find a way. Indifference will find an excuse.
Never try to define love. Once defined love is confined. Once confined -- It dies.
We who were loved will never unlive that crippling fever.
Love ever gives. Forgives outlives. And ever stands with open hands. And while it lives, it gives. For this is love's prerogatives -- to give, and give, and give.
Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish it's source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of withering, of tarnishing.
Do not think that love in order to be genuine has to be extraordinary. What we need is to love without getting tired. Be faithful in small things because it is in them that your strength lies.
Frustrated love has been the incentive for many great works.
Love cures people -- both the ones who give it and the ones who receive it.
Love is all you need.
An act of love that fails is just as much a part of the divine life as an act of love that succeeds, for love is measured by fullness, not by reception.
The bottom line is that (a) people are never perfect, but love can be, (b) that is the one and only way that the mediocre and vile can be transformed, and (c) doing that makes it that. We waste time looking for the perfect lover, instead of creating the perfect love.
Love means never having to say you're sorry.
Loving can cost a lot but not loving always costs more, and those who fear to love often find that want of love is an emptiness that robs the joy from life.
There are no guarantees. From the viewpoint of fear, none are strong enough. From the viewpoint of love, none are necessary.
We will invent new lullabies, new songs, new acts of love, we will cry over things we used to laugh and our new wisdom will bring tears to eyes of gentle creatures from other planets who were afraid of us till then and in the end a summer with wild winds and new friends will be.
Love must be as much a light, as it is a flame.
True love grows by sacrifice and the more thoroughly the soul rejects natural satisfaction the stronger and more detached its tenderness becomes.
It is here, my daughters, that love is to be found -- not hidden away in corners but in the midst of occasions of sin. And believe me, although we may more often fail and commit small lapses, our gain will be incomparably the greater.
A life without love in it is like a heap of ashes upon a deserted hearth, with the fire dead, the laughter stilled and the light extinguished.
One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life; that word is love.
The hottest love has the coldest end.
If you were going to die soon and had only one phone call you could make, who would you call and what would you say? And why are you waiting?

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