Love Quotes - Page 53

Let us tear down the romantic trappings that have adorned passion. Let us cease believing that the measure of a man’s love lies in how stupid he has become or is willing to be.

José Ortega y Gasset

So this is what men are like. Well, that's it, then - I am going to be a lesbian.

Louise Rennison

How stupid lovers can be! But if they were not, there would be no story.

Jean Plaidy

...a bard's down-to-earth love: My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red and when she walks, treads on the ground...

John Geddes

One does not become a poet by uttering beautiful words. One becomes a poet by pouring their soul as wine into the Cup of Love.

Subhan Zein

...what else would a poet priest do on an endless night, but write of love?...

John Geddes

Nations conquered and true love prevails, all encompassed in a poets tale.

R.J. Craddock

When the hatred stops will the love begin? When there is no more greed will there then be peace?

Sherman Kennon

For once touched by love, everyone becomes a poet

Plato

If you know something to be trueSay it onceThose who can, will receive itOnly the foolish believe they can justify a truth to a court of foolsHonor the truthFor even before a just judgeA lie can be proven to be credibleOn the other handTruth will never require a woman or man's justificationIt can stand aloneWhether torn and ridiculedTruth standsEven after all has been stripped away

Gregory C. Warner

Shiv Kumar Batalvi

I have loved enough women to know how to paint.If I had loved fewer, I would be an illustrator; if I had loved more, I would be a poet.

Sarah Ruhl

Some can't handle the fiery poet, how she rips into souls burning words into prose.

Melody Lee

So you find Miss Mercer beautiful?”The buzzing in Spencer’s head formed the words, “’She walks in beauty like the night/Of cloudless climes and starry skies.’”“My God, now you’re quoting poetry.”Had he said that aloud? Bloody hell. Spencer brandished his empty mug at his brother. “I always quote verse when I’m foxed.”“You must be very foxed to quote that idiot Byron. Or very impressed by Miss Mercer’s looks.

Sabrina Jeffries

Lovers, Lunatics and poets are made of same stuff.

Bhagat Singh

Every night I tell my children all of the things that I love about them. I tell them how proud I am of their accomplishments and how much better our lives have been since they were born. I hope they will always realize how much they are loved and valued. I feel so blessed that they are in my life.

Tom Giaquinto

He was nine years old; he was a child; he he knew his own soul, it was precious to him, he guarded it as the eyelid guards the eye, and without the key of love he let no one into his soul.

Leo Tolstoy

A.J. watches Maya in her pink party dress, and he feels a vaguely familiar, slightly intolerable bubbling inside of him. He wants to laugh out loud or punch a wall. He feels drunk or at least carbonated. Insane. At first, he thinks this is happiness, but then he determines it's love. Fucking love, he thinks. What a bother.

Gabrielle Zevin

If Jana had been given to putting her thoughts into words, she might have told Laxmi that without someone to love,there was no reason to live.

Anne McCaffrey

I remember myself as a child, pudgy and awkward and unsure of myself. For a moment I wonder how anyone could love such a child as that, let alone the woman she promised to become.

Ashlee Willis

She is bending over her child. She can’t leave her. Thechild is laid out in state on a table. She wants to take one more photograph of the child, probably the last. In life, the child would never sit still for a photograph. She says to herself, “I’m going to get the camera,” as if saying to the child, “Don’t move.

Lydia Davis

Woe to the heart that has not loved in youth!

Ivan Turgenev

Anna has a stab of jealousy - she is thrilled for them, yet can't help but envy their happiness. Don't be ungracious, she tells herself. It is not your time; it is theirs. Lou is so lovely; she deserves to be happy.

Sarah Rayner

...I don't want what other men see in you- you the you I want is invisible but it is the part of you I really love...

John Geddes

Max.God, but she was stubborn. And tough. And closed in. Closed off. Except whenshe was holding Angel, or ruffling the Gasman’s hair, or pushing somethingcloser to Iggy’s hand so he could find it easily without knowing anyone hadhelped him. Or when she was trying to untangle Nudge’s mane of hair.Or-sometimes-when she was looking at Fang.He shifted on the hard ground, a half-dozen flashes of memory cyclingthrough his brain. Max looking at him and laughing. Max leaping off a cliff,snapping out her wings, flying off, so incredibly powerful and graceful thatit took his breath away.Max punching someone’s lights out, her face like stone.Max kissing that weiner Sam on Anne’s front porch.Gritting his teeth, Fang rolled onto his side.Max kissing him on the beach, after Ari had kicked Fang’s butt.Just now, her mouth soft under his.He wished she were here, if not next to him, then somewhere in the cave, sohe could hear her breathing.It was going to be hard to sleep without that tonight.

James Patterson

When she leaned forward to mess with the AC vents, her hair brushed against my leg and it was really soft. It made remember all over again. It made it hard to stay pissed and keep her at arm's length the way I'd planned. It was pretty near damn impossible. When I was near her, I just wanted to grab her and hold her and kiss the shit out of her. Maybe then she'd forget about my asshole of a brother.

Jenny Han

That I have no right to be jealous is irrelevant. It is a human passion: the sick, white underbelly of love.

Anita Shreve

She was so beautiful tonight he knew he would die of it. He hated that anyone else should see it. He wished it were something he alone could see. And he knew he was alone, that nobody saw it but him. And he knew that everyone could see it. And still no one could but him.

Patrick Holland

The life of a plural wife, she'd found, was a life lived under constant comparison, a life spent wondering. Sitting across from her sister-wives at Sunday dinner, the platters and serving dishes floating past like hovercraft, the questions were almost inescapable; Who of us is the most happy? Which of us is his one true love? Who does he desire the most?

Brady Udall

...love's shadow is jealousy.

Storm Constantine

He didn't blame James for falling in love with her, she was a radiant, deserving woman. He knew, however, that love only did one thing. It got in the way.

Erin M. Truesdale

Come, Paul!" she reiterated, her eye grazing me with its hard ray like a steel stylet. She pushed against her kinsman. I thought he receded; I thought he would go. Pierced deeper than I could endure, made now to feel what defied suppression, I cried -"My heart will break!"What I felt seemed literal heart-break; but the seal of another fountain yielded under the strain: one breath from M. Paul, the whisper, "Trust me!" lifted a load, opened an outlet. With many a deep sob, with thrilling, with icy shiver, with strong trembling, and yet with relief - I wept."Leave her to me; it is a crisis: I will give her a cordial, and it will pass," said the calm Madame Beck.To be left to her and her cordial seemed to me something like being left to the poisoner and her bowl. When M. Paul answered deeply, harshly, and briefly - "Laissez-moi!" in the grim sound I felt a music strange, strong, but life-giving."Laissez-moi!" he repeated, his nostrils opening, and his facial muscles all quivering as he spoke."But this will never do," said Madame, with sternness. More sternly rejoined her kinsman -"Sortez d'ici!""I will send for Père Silas: on the spot I will send for him," she threatened pertinaciously."Femme!" cried the Professor, not now in his deep tones, but in his highest and most excited key, "Femme! sortez à l'instant!"He was roused, and I loved him in his wrath with a passion beyond what I had yet felt."What you do is wrong," pursued Madame; "it is an act characteristic of men of your unreliable, imaginative temperament; a step impulsive, injudicious, inconsistent - a proceeding vexatious, and not estimable in the view of persons of steadier and more resolute character.""You know not what I have of steady and resolute in me," said he, "but you shall see; the event shall teach you. Modeste," he continued less fiercely, "be gentle, be pitying, be a woman; look at this poor face, and relent. You know I am your friend, and the friend of your friends; in spite of your taunts, you well and deeply know I may be trusted. Of sacrificing myself I made no difficulty but my heart is pained by what I see; it must have and give solace. Leave me!"This time, in the "leave me" there was an intonation so bitter and so imperative, I wondered that even Madame Beck herself could for one moment delay obedience; but she stood firm; she gazed upon him dauntless; she met his eye, forbidding and fixed as stone. She was opening her lips to retort; I saw over all M. Paul's face a quick rising light and fire; I can hardly tell how he managed the movement; it did not seem violent; it kept the form of courtesy; he gave his hand; it scarce touched her I thought; she ran, she whirled from the room; she was gone, and the door shut, in one second.The flash of passion was all over very soon. He smiled as he told me to wipe my eyes; he waited quietly till I was calm, dropping from time to time a stilling, solacing word. Ere long I sat beside him once more myself - re-assured, not desperate, nor yet desolate; not friendless, not hopeless, not sick of life, and seeking death."It made you very sad then to lose your friend?" said he."It kills me to be forgotten, Monsieur," I said.

Charlotte Brontë

...Ah, but the Moon my Love is jealous, and can you blame him? You outshine him with your virtues...

John Geddes

Sometimes, I think that I love life so much, that I make death jealous...

Lionel Suggs

You never felt jealousy, did you, Miss Eyre? Of course not: I need not ask you; because you never felt love. You have both sentiments yet to experience: your soul sleeps; the shock is yet to be given which shall waken it. You think all existence lapses in as quiet a flow as that in which your youth has hitherto slid away. Floating on with closed eyes and muffled ears, you neither see the rocks bristling not far off in the bed of the flood, nor hear the breakers boil at their base. But I tell you--and you may mark my words--you will come some day to a craggy pass in the channel, where the whole of life's stream will be broken up into whirl and tumult, foam and noise: either you will be dashed to atoms on crag points, or lifted up and borne on by some master-wave into a calmer current- -as I am now.

Charlotte Brontë

Ravings, in short, jealousy of the past, the worst kind of all.

Salman Rushdie

You’re fucking special and if I want to act all possessive over you when some stupid art guy hits on you right in front of me, I’m going to. Either that or I’m going to have Ethan chase him down right now so I can punch him in the face.

Jessica Sorensen

A watched pot never boils, but if I took my eyes from these negative thoughts for a second they would spill over the edges of my lips, and boil the beautiful moment alive as we lived it.

Craig Stone

Learn to love your haters, they are a wonderful source of inspiration.

Habeeb Akande

Claire hated to say it, but she knew the answer, in her heart. “Because he feels something for me, and he wanted to give me a chance to live. Like him. With him. But I refused.”Shane turned and looked at her, a blank expression on his face that turned quickly into . . . something else. Claire was glad Myrnin had gotten out while he still could. “Great,” he said. “I knew it.”“It’s not like that. He’s—” She shook her head in frustration. “It’s not like he’s in love with me or anything; it’s more complicated than that. I don’t even think he understands it, exactly.”“Yeah, he only loves you for your mind,” Shane said...

Rachel Caine

Jealous is an ugly thing.

Jennifer L. Armentrout

The knives of jealousy are honed on details.

Ruth Rendell

with the pain jealousy instils and the love hate relationship it creates surely its just easier to appreciate what you have then what you could loose

Richard Kent

I admired him more than anyone but I didn't wish him well. It was that I preferred him to me and wanted to be him. I coveted his talents, face, style. I wanted to wake up with them all transferred to me.

Hanif Kureishi

What we did see was that jealousy is fear: it can corrode even if quite baseless.

Sheldon Vanauken

Listen to yourself. Poor martyred Louisa. I predict that Fellows will solve this murder and then sweep you off your feet." Daniel shrugged. "Well, the sweeping-you-off-your-feet part might take a little nudge. But he wants to do it. It's a beautiful thing to watch the way he looks at you. Fellows glared at Gil tonight as though he wanted to find a claymore, learn how to use it, and finish him off. Or just pull out a pistol and shoot him.

Jennifer Ashley

Steaming, Sebastian flies up out of his seat and makes a dramatic exit out the front door."Is he always so crazy?" I asked."Yeah. But he's a hot fuck. You'll see.""No thanks... I'll pass. That kid's severely psychotic.""He's just a jealous mess.""Why did you marry him?""We're not married. We're in an open relationship.""Thank God. I was seriously worried.""YEAH. Well I better go find him- before he slits his wrists.""GOOD IDEA. Better take some duct tape-- just in case you're too late.

Giorge Leedy

A desert lily need not turn jealous eyes toward the common violet.

Colleen Houck

More than jealousy or possessiveness pettiness kills love.

Marty Rubin

I'd rather have your lifeblood tainted than spilled on a forest floor.'He said no more, just held her. 'I'm not worth it,' she whispered at last.'Who says so?''I do.''Then you don't know what love is.

Kate Furnivall

Guilty?” George’s face betrayed his surprise. “Whatever for?” “That neither of your brothers ever offered for me.” Another thing she probably should not have said. But as it happened, Billie did think that Lady Manston felt this way. And when George’s expression slid from curiosity to something that might have been jealousy… well, Billie could not help but feel a little pleased. “So I think she’s trying to make it up to me,” she said gamely. “It’s not as if I was waiting for one of them to ask me, but I think she thinks I was, so now she wants to introduce me —” “Enough,” George practically barked. “I beg your pardon?” He cleared his throat. “Enough,” he said in a much more evenly tempered voice. “It’s ridiculous.” “That your mother feels this way?” “That she thinks introducing you to a pack of useless fops is a sensible idea.” Billie took a moment to enjoy this statement.

Julia Quinn

Billie laughed at that, full and throaty, and once again she became so incandescently beautiful that George was half-tempted to throw a blanket over her, just to stop anyone else from wanting her.

Julia Quinn

That was the worst period of all: it is my profession to imagine, to think in images: fifty times through the day, and immediately I woke during the night, a curtain would rise and the play would begin: always the same play, Sarah making love, Sarah with X, doing the same things that we had done together, Sarah kissing in her own particular way, arching herself in the act of sex and uttering that cry like pain, Sarah in abandonment. I would take pills at night to make me sleep quickly, but I never found any pills that would keep me asleep till daylight.

Graham Greene

What was it about that short creature with her wild hair and spurious air of purity and why would anyone much less two men love her and to such disastrous ends.

Anna Godbersen

Love has its own dark morality when rivalry enters in.

Thomas Hardy

Jealousy appears to be a redoubtable pitfall for love, on the toll road of self-absorption and unshareability. When love has to remain cloistered and ostentatiously exclusionary, envy may show its pernicious power, cause wounding harms and unchain emotional twisters. ("Why has Shé got stars in the sky?")

Erik Pevernagie

Melanie understands jealousy. She’s jealous, a little bit, every time Miss Justineau talks to another boy or girl in class. She wants Miss Justineau’s time to belong to her, and the reminders that it doesn’t sting a little, make her heart do a gentle drop and thud in her chest.

M.R. Carey

Back at home, after some prodding from Tereza, he admitted that he had been jealous watching her dance with a colleague of his. "You mean you were really jealous?" she asked him ten times or more, incredulously, as though someone had just informed her she had been awarded a Nobel Peace prize. Then she put her arm around his waist and began dancing across the room. The step she used was not the one she had shown off in the bar. It was more like a village polka, a wild romp that sent her legs flying in the air and her torso bounding all over the room, with Tomas in tow. Before long, unfortunately, she bagan to be jealous herself, and Tomas saw her jealously not as a Nobel Prize, but as a burden, a burden he would be saddled with until not long before his death.

Milan Kundera

At that time, he was satisfying a sensual curiosity by experiencing the pleasures of people who live for love. He had believed he could stop there, that he would not be obliged to learn their sorrows; how small a thing her charm was for him now compared with the astounding terror that extended out from it like a murky halo, the immense anguish of not knowing at every moment what she had been doing, of not possessing her everywhere and always!

Marcel Proust

Besides, I'm not jealous. I'm just so in love with you that there isn't anything else.

Ernest Hemingway

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Love Quotes - Page 53

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