He who is in love is wise and is becoming wiser sees newly every time he looks at the object beloved drawing from it with his eyes and his mind those virtues which it possesses.
There is only one happiness in life to love and be loved.
It is very difficult to live among people you love and hold back from offering them advice.
He loved her he loved her and until hed loved her she had never minded being alone....
If love were a dolphin with wings and a unicorns horn being ridden by a blind leprechaun dressed like Rasputin would you believe in second chances for love at first sight
I crave your mouth your voice your hair.Silent and starving I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me dawn disrupts me all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
Everything happens for a reason and something better will come along for me
Happiness you see its just an illusion of Fate a heavenly sleight of hand designed to make you believe in fairy tales. But theres no happily ever after. Youll only find happy endings in books. Some books.
Perhaps people like us cannot love. Ordinary people can - that is their secret.
There is no charm equal to tenderness of heart.
We are not held back by the love we didnt receive in the past but by the love were not extending in the present.
Love like rain can nourish from above drenching couples with a soaking joy. But sometimes under the angry heat of life love dries on the surface and must nourish from below tending to its roots keeping itself alive.
The unqualified truth is that when I loved Estella with the love of a man I loved her simply because I found her irresistible. Once for all I knew to my sorrow often and often if not always that I loved her against reason against promise against peace against hope against happiness against all discouragement that could be. Once for all I love her none the less because I knew it and it had no more influence in restraining me than if I had devoutly believed her to be human perfection.
Now Id rather be infected with love for the tiniest sliver of a second than live a hundred years smothered by a lie.
Dying is overrated. Human sentimentality has twisted it into the ultimate act of love. Biggest load of bullshit in the world. Dying for someone isnt the hard thing. The man that dies escapes. Plain and simple. Game over. End of pain...Try living for someone. Through it all-good bad thick thin joy suffering. Thats the hard thing.
I hold the bottle out into the rain and watch as the steady flow slowly fills it. When there is enough enough that Beth can clearly see I close the bottle and hand it to her.She raises a skeptical eyebrow but accepts the bottle.Its our rain Beth.Her head barely shakes to show her confusion while I rub the back of my neck and search for my courage. I told you I loved you in this rain and when you doubt my words I want you to look at this bottle.
That must be love when everything else in the world could implode and you wouldnt care as long as you had that one person standing beside you.
I am almost a hundred years old waiting for the end and thinking about the beginning.There are things I need to tell you but would you listen if I told you how quickly time passesI know you are unable to imagine this.Nevertheless I can tell you that you will awake someday to find that your life has rushed by at a speed at once impossible and cruel. The most intense moments will seem to have occurred only yesterday and nothing will have erased the pain and pleasure the impossible intensity of love and its dog-leaping happiness the bleak blackness of passions unrequited or unexpressed or unresolved.
Ill always want him. Until every sun goes dark in every sky until I am nothing more than long-forgotten cosmic dust I will want him. And even then I suspect my particles will long for his.
Me quota ang pag-ibig. Sa bawat limang umiibig isa lang ang magiging maligaya. Ang iba iibig sa di sila iniibig. Iibig nang di natututo. O iibig sa wala. O di iibig kailanman.