Love

I write because it's the only thing I love that always loves me back.

If someone you love asks you to give up something you love, don't do it.

I am a practical person. Always believed in multi purpose tools, good education and limited conversations .... And then I saw her!

If you can just stop loving her then you never really loved her at all. Love doesn't work that way. If you ever truly love someone, then it never goes away. It can become something else. There are all different sorts of love. It can even become hate- a thin line and all that- and, really, hate is just another kind of caring.

In all the vastness of the world, the deepest adventure is not of war or mortal danger, but of heart, of soul, of the infinite discovery of a beloved other.

The way to love anything is to realize that it may be lost.

Love is black. Love is white. Love is brown. Love is humanity.

With great love comes occasions of pain. You can't skip the pain; without it, you would never know what a precious thing love is. You wouldn't know to hang onto it. You wouldn't know to fight for it. You embrace the pain because the love makes it all worthwhile.

We expect miracles from love but love has only itself to give.

Just love, just feel the love, longing for love, nothing else matters.

My body's been touched a thousand or more times but I am craving something so much deeper than that ~ I desire to be felt, right down to the core of my soul and the corners of my heart. That's what love is about isn't it ~ cracking yourself open to the possibility that it could change your life.

You know I love you,' said the other mother flatly.'You have a very funny way of showing it,' said Coraline.

He closed his eyes and allowed himself to remember the taste of her and the feel of her and the smell of her. She was quite lovely. She was altogether ravishing. She would set any man's blood on fire. He shouldn't have kissed her.

I keep dying and hoping you notice me. But you’re too busy living.

It was awful, this love.

It is better to be alone then to be in a relationship, while you are trying to figure out what love means to you.

How can anyone truthfully claim to love someone when they’re not prepared to share everything with that person, including their past?

When you have kids and get older, it goes beyond flowers and chocolate. It's about waking up with a baby, letting her sleep in, and making a coffee for her when she wakes up. To me, being romantic is putting someone else first and thinking about what makes them happy.

It was only when we were in that bed, high above the world - then I thought the birds could have been circling around our bodies circled around each other - that we made our world totally separated from everything else. It was the only way we could be together.

A marriage of two independent and equally irritable intelligences seems to me reckless to the point of insanity.