Only once in your life, I truly believe, you find someone who can completely turn your world around. You tell them things that youâve never shared with another soul and they absorb everything you say and actually want to hear more. You share hopes for the future, dreams that will never come true, goals that were never achieved and the many disappointments life has thrown at you. When something wonderful happens, you canât wait to tell them about it, knowing they will share in your excitement. They are not embarrassed to cry with you when you are hurting or laugh with you when you make a fool of yourself. Never do they hurt your feelings or make you feel like you are not good enough, but rather they build you up and show you the things about yourself that make you special and even beautiful. There is never any pressure, jealousy or competition but only a quiet calmness when they are around. You can be yourself and not worry about what they will think of you because they love you for who you are. The things that seem insignificant to most people such as a note, song or walk become invaluable treasures kept safe in your heart to cherish forever. Memories of your childhood come back and are so clear and vivid itâs like being young again. Colours seem brighter and more brilliant. Laughter seems part of daily life where before it was infrequent or didnât exist at all. A phone call or two during the day helps to get you through a long dayâs work and always brings a smile to your face. In their presence, thereâs no need for continuous conversation, but you find youâre quite content in just having them nearby. Things that never interested you before become fascinating because you know they are important to this person who is so special to you. You think of this person on every occasion and in everything you do. Simple things bring them to mind like a pale blue sky, gentle wind or even a storm cloud on the horizon. You open your heart knowing that thereâs a chance it may be broken one day and in opening your heart, you experience a love and joy that you never dreamed possible. You find that being vulnerable is the only way to allow your heart to feel true pleasure thatâs so real it scares you. You find strength in knowing you have a true friend and possibly a soul mate who will remain loyal to the end. Life seems completely different, exciting and worthwhile. Your only hope and security is in knowing that they are a part of your life.
It is better to be hated for what you are than to be loved for what you are not.
You may not be her first, her last, or her only. She loved before she may love again. But if she loves you now, what else matters? She’s not perfectâyou aren’t either, and the two of you may never be perfect together but if she can make you laugh, cause you to think twice, and admit to being human and making mistakes, hold onto her and give her the most you can. She may not be thinking about you every second of the day, but she will give you a part of her that she knows you can breakâher heart. So don’t hurt her, don’t change her, don’t analyze and don’t expect more than she can give. Smile when she makes you happy, let her know when she makes you mad, and miss her when she’s not there.
Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.
If I had a flower for every time I thought of you…I could walk through my garden forever.
He has achieved success who has lived well, laughed often, and loved much;
Who has enjoyed the trust of pure women, the respect of intelligent men and the love of little children;
Who has filled his niche and accomplished his task;
Who has never lacked appreciation of Earth’s beauty or failed to express it;
Who has left the world better than he found it,
Whether an improved poppy, a perfect poem, or a rescued soul;
Who has always looked for the best in others and given them the best he had;
Whose life was an inspiration;
Whose memory a benediction.
-Bessie Anderson Stanley
To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.
Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.
Heâs not perfect. You arenât either, and the two of you will never be perfect. But if he can make you laugh at least once, causes you to think twice, and if he admits to being human and making mistakes, hold onto him and give him the most you can. He isnât going to quote poetry, heâs not thinking about you every moment, but he will give you a part of him that he knows you could break. Donât hurt him, donât change him, and donât expect for more than he can give. Donât analyze. Smile when he makes you happy, yell when he makes you mad, and miss him when heâs not there. Love hard when there is love to be had. Because perfect guys donât exist, but thereâs always one guy that is perfect for you.
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
The Christian does not think God will love us because we are good, but that God will make us good because He loves us.
And now Iâm looking at you,â he said, âand youâre asking me if I still want you, as if I could stop loving you. As if I would want to give up the thing that makes me stronger than anything else ever has. I never dared give much of myself to anyone before â bits of myself to the Lightwoods, to Isabelle and Alec, but it took years to do it â but, Clary, since the first time I saw you, I have belonged to you completely. I still do. If you want me.
To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and the vulgar disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all, to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never to forget.
Some people care too much. I think it’s called love.
The boy never cried again, and he never forgot what he’d learned: that to love is to destroy, and that to be loved is to be the one destroyed.
Love is always patient and kind. It is never jealous. Love is never boastful or conceited. It is never rude or selfish. It does not take offense and is not resentful. Love takes no pleasure in other peopleâs sins, but delights in the truth. It is always ready to excuse, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes.
We live and breathe words. …. It was books that made me feel that perhaps I was not completely alone. They could be honest with me, and I with them. Reading your words, what you wrote, how you were lonely sometimes and afraid, but always brave; the way you saw the world, its colors and textures and sounds, I felt–I felt the way you thought, hoped, felt, dreamt. I felt I was dreaming and thinking and feeling with you. I dreamed what you dreamed, wanted what you wanted–and then I realized that truly I just wanted you.
I love people who make me laugh. I honestly think it’s the thing I like most, to laugh. It cures a multitude of ills. It’s probably the most important thing in a person.
Man may have discovered fire, but women discovered how to play with it.
Love does not consist of gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction.
-Antoine de Saint-ExupÃ©ry
And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.
You know, one of the tragedies of real life is that there is no background music.
It is a curious thought, but it is only when you see people looking ridiculous that you realize just how much you love them.
Of all forms of caution, caution in love is perhaps the most fatal to true happiness.
One love, one heart, one destiny.
If she’s amazing, she won’t be easy. If she’s easy, she won’t be amazing. If she’s worth it, you wont give up. If you give up, you’re not worthy. … Truth is, everybody is going to hurt you; you just gotta find the ones worth suffering for.
We have to allow ourselves to be loved by the people who really love us, the people who really matter. Too much of the time, we are blinded by our own pursuits of people to love us, people that don’t even matter, while all that time we waste and the people who do love us have to stand on the sidewalk and watch us beg in the streets! It’s time to put an end to this. It’s time for us to let ourselves be loved.
-C. JoyBell C.
Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love.
Love is not affectionate feeling, but a steady wish for the loved person’s ultimate good as far as it can be obtained.
Look again at that dot. That’s here. That’s home. That’s us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every “superstar,” every “supreme leader,” every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there-on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.
The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot.
Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.
The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand.
It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we’ve ever known.
love the life you live.
live the life you love.
Where there is love, there is often also hate. They can exist side by side.
You could have fooled me. Everytime I called you, Luke said you were sick. I figured you were avoiding me. Again.”
“I wasn’t. I did want to talk to you. I’ve been thinking about you all the time.”
“I’ve been thinking about you, too.”
“I really was sick. I swear. I almost died back there on the ship, you know.”
“I know. Everytime you almost die, I almost die myself.
It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important.
-Antoine de Saint-ExupÃ©ry
Every one of us is, in the cosmic perspective, precious. If a human disagrees with you, let him live. In a hundred billion galaxies, you will not find another.
There is only one page left to write on. I will fill it with words of only one syllable. I love. I have loved. I will love.
I read once that the ancient Egyptians had fifty words for sand & the Eskimos had a hundred words for snow. I wish I had a thousand words for love, but all that comes to mind is the way you move against me while you sleep & there are no words for that.
When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew.
As it has been said:
Love and a cough
cannot be concealed.
Even a small cough.
Even a small love.
The heart has its reasons which reason knows not.
That’s what careless words do. They make people love you a little less.
Do not fall in love with people like me.
I will take you to museums, and parks, and monuments, and kiss you in every beautiful place, so that you can never go back to them without tasting me like blood in your mouth.
I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible. And when I leave you will finally understand, why storms are named after people.
You should write because you love the shape of stories and sentences and the creation of different words on a page. Writing comes from reading, and reading is the finest teacher of how to write.
People have forgotten this truth,” the fox said. “But you mustnât forget it. You become responsible forever for what youâve tamed. Youâre responsible for your rose.
-Antoine de Saint-ExupÃ©ry
Being with you never felt wrong. It’s the one thing I did right. You’re the one thing I did right.
When you trip over love, it is easy to get up. But when you fall in love, it is impossible to stand again.
What draws people to be friends is that they see the same truth. They share it.
Love the world and yourself in it, move through it as though it offers no resistance, as though the world is your natural element.
Watch out for intellect,
because it knows so much it knows nothing
and leaves you hanging upside down,
mouthing knowledge as your heart
falls out of your mouth.
My wish is that you may be loved to the point of madness.
Throw your dreams into space like a kite, and you do not know what it will bring back, a new life, a new friend, a new love, a new country.
I won’t ever leave you, even though you’re always leaving me.
If you were music, I would listen to you ceaselessly, and my low spirits would brighten up.