Quotes about Love

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These are quotes tagged with "love".

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Love is life's end, but never ending. Love is life's wealth, never spent, but ever spending. Love's life's reward, rewarded in rewarding.

When one is in love, one always begins by deceiving one's self, and one always ends by deceiving others. That is what the world calls a romance.
The Impossible Generalized Man today is the critic who believes in loving those unworthy of love as well as those worthy --yet believes this only insofar as no personal risk is entailed. Meaning he loves no one, worthy or no. This is what makes him impossible.
Love, by its very nature, is unworldly, and it is for this reason rather than its rarity that it is not only apolitical but anti-political, perhaps the most powerful of all anti-political human forces.
For a crowd is not company; and faces are but a gallery of pictures; and talk but a tinkling cymbal, where there is no love.
To fall in love is to create a religion that has a fallible god.
Love comes from blindness, friendship from knowledge.
The best way to know God is to love many things.
Love is the total absence of fear. Love asks no questions. Its natural state is one of extension and expansion, not comparison and measurement.
Love is never lost. If not reciprocated, it will flow back and soften and purify the heart.
Love is a promise, love is a souvenir, once given never forgotten, never let it disappear.
Love shall be our token; love be yours and love be mine.
Love yourself unconditionally, just as you love those closest to you despite their faults.
When two people relate to each other authentically and humanly, God is the electricity that surges between them.
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.
Love talked about is easily turned aside, but love demonstrated is irresistible.
Pure love is a willingness to give without a thought of receiving anything in return.
All my life I have had a choice of hate and love. I chose love and I am here
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.
To try to write love is to confront the muck of language: that region of hysteria where language is both too much and too little, excessive and impoverished.
We know that we have passed from death into life, because we love... [1 John 3:14]
Nothing takes the taste out of peanut butter quite like unrequited love.
Tis said of love that it sometimes goes, sometimes flies; runs with one, walks gravely with another; turns a third into ice, and sets a fourth in a flame: it wounds one, another it kills: like lightning it begins and ends in the same moment: it makes that fort yield at night which it besieged but in the morning; for there is no force able to resist it.
Can there be a love which does not make demands on its object?
Love is like pi -- natural, irrational, and very important.
The love we give away is the only love we keep.
Love is as much of an object as an obsession, everybody wants it, everybody seeks it, but few ever achieve it, those who do will cherish it, be lost in it, and among all, never... never forget it.
Life and love are life and love, a bunch of violets is a bunch of violets, and to drag in the idea of a point is to ruin everything. Live and let live, love and let love, flower and fade, and follow the natural curve, which flows on, pointless.
The hottest love has the coldest end.
Love must be as much a light, as it is a flame.
What's so remarkable about Love at first sight? It's when people have been looking at each other for years that it becomes remarkable.
Love will find a way. Indifference will find an excuse.
Love conquers all; let us surrender to Love.
If you aren't good at loving yourself, you will have a difficult time loving anyone, since you'll resent the time and energy you give another person that you aren't even giving to yourself.
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.
Love is the victim's response to the rapist.
This is my commandment, that ye love one another. [Jesus, In John 15:12]
If I place love above everything, it is because for me it is the most desperate, the most despairing state of affairs imaginable.
Real love is a pilgrimage. It happens when there is no strategy, but it is very rare because most people are strategists.
Love the whole world as a mother lovers her only child.

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