Intimacy is being comfortable
with someone rummaging through your soul.
He says that "talking about love is like dancing about architecture." Maybe he's right, but it
won't stop me from trying.
Emmerse yourself in love.
Alice said: Most (men) seize up and develop a terrible shortness of breath, often for years, frequently for
a lifetime, before they are ever able comfortably to say, "I love you," "te amo," "je t'aime." . . . On the
other hand, beware of any (man) who tells you that he lovesyou, especially too fast, especially in the heat
of the moment.
It's so much more easier to choose to love the things you have.
Love is not blind - it sees more, not less. But because it sees more, it is willing to see less.
Love is the difficult realization that something other than oneself is real.
Sometimes it's a form of love just to talk to somebody that you have nothing in common
with and still be fascinated by their presence.
Love makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place.
As soon as forever is through, I'll be over you.
There comes a time in every life when we find the heart we're waiting for.
There are mysteries about our love. Things that neither one of us may ever understand
because love is an emotion without limit and understanding. We know we love each other, but we
could never explain completely as why we love each other. Love is not a clock. You simply
cannot take it apart just to see what makes it tick, and even if you could, you probably could
never get it back together again.
Love is a special word, and I use it only when I mean it. You say the word too much and
it becomes cheap.
Unfortunately, sometimes love gives us pain and makes us cry; it's a tightrope that every
conscious being must tread - and often enough, it leaves us between a rock and a hard place.
We say we love flowers, yet we pluck them. We say we love trees, yet we cut them down.
And some people still wonder why some are afraid when they are told they are loved.
I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you. I love you
not only for what you have made of yourself, but for what you are making of me. I love you for
the part of me that you bring out.
Make three wishes and they shall all come true. Make three hundred and I will honour
every one.
What orbit of the planets has put you and me in this place, at this moment? Where time
takes a breath, and we dance on the edge of our dreams?
I would step in the way of a bullet if it were aimed at my husband. It is not self-
sacrifice to die protecting that which you value: If the value is great enough, you do not care
to exist without it. This applies to any alleged sacrifice for those one loves.
Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within.
Nothing you love is lost. Not really. Things, people - they always go away, sooner or
later. You can't hold them any more then you can hold the moonlight. But if they've touched
you, if they're inside of you, then they're still yours. The only things you ever really have
are the ones that you hold inside your heart.
If you press me to say why I loved him, I feel that it can only be expressed by saying,
'Because it was him; because it was me.'
I need you, I don't know why, but every now and then in my life, for no reason at all, I
need you.
Love is wanting to give up your world to make someone else happy.
Look into love and tell me you don't see something beautiful.
I believe there is a place where the restless souls wander. Burdened by the weight of
their own sadness, they cannot enter heaven. . . And so they wait, trapped between our world and
the next, endlessly searching for a way to rid themselves of their own pain - in the hope that
somehow, someday they will be reunited with ones they love. If two people love each other,
nothing can keep them apart.
I have fallen so in love with you, so much more than I ever said I would.
Hate is easy; Love takes courage.
Love starts with a smile, grows with a kiss, and ends with a tear.
A broken heart is what makes life so wonderful five years later when you see the guy in
an elevator and he is fat and smoking a cigar and saying "Long Time, No See."
The pain of love is the pain of being alive. It is a perpetual wound.
Love is much like a wild rose, beautiful and calm, but willing to draw blood in its defense.
A woman who pretends to laugh at love is like a child who sings at night when he is afraid.
Love can sweep you off your feet and carry you along in a way you've never known before.
But the ride always ends, and you end up feeling lonely and bitter.
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 around
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.
Love won't be tampered with, love won't go away. Push it to one side and it creeps to
the other.
When it comes down to it, we all just want to be loved.
Do I love you because you're beautiful, or are you beautiful because I love you? Am I
making believe I see in you a man too perfect to be really true? Do I want you because you're
wonderful, or are you wonderful because I want you? Are you the sweet invention of a lover's
dream, or are you really as beautiful as you seem?
Was he attractive? She was too attracted to tell.
You might have loved me, if you had known me. If you had ever known my mind. If you
would have walked through my dreams and memories. Who knows what treasures you might have found.
Yes, you might have loved me. If you had only taken the time.
