Love Quotes

“Happiness is having everything you've worked for and someone for whom you'd give it all up who would never ask you to.”

“A god could hardly love and be wise.”

“We are not the same persons this year as last; nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person.”

“The Old Man once said: "Every normal man has the mating impulse, but not every one has the capacity to love." I know there are those who deny love — and they will not understand. I am sorry for them. What has life meant for them? Only illusion. And they have missed the one, the great illusion! I am sorry for them.”

“I emerged from the affair at last in a state which I can only describe as over-disillusionment about love.”

“She has wound herself around my soul!... Happiness is inseparable from her!”

“Don't you find it easier to do hard things when you stop to think love-thoughts? Love makes the burden light.”

“Friendship, as some sage poet sings, Is chasten'd Love, depriv'd of wings, Without all wish or power to wander; Less volatile, but not less tender: Yet says the proverb—"Sly and slow "Love creeps, even where he cannot go;" To clip his pinions then is vain, His old propensities remain; And she, who years beyond fifteen, Has counted twenty, may have seen How rarely unplum'd Love will stay; He flies not—but he coolly walks away.”

“Lovers should cease trying to rob the future of its emotions.”

“To find love some day—there was a fit ambition for every human heart! But how often it was pushed aside by greed, by cynicism, by selfishness, by fear—by any number of cold and worldly things!”

“I love, till my heart is red as February and purple as March.”

“The eternal question, as old as love. Love is so curious! We are always wondering why we are the recipient. Man says to maid and maid says to man: 'Why do you love me?' Why does the bee select the flower he kisses? Or the humming bird that one nectar cup from out the multitude? I don't know. I suppose there are no two beings alike in the whole world. We choose. We mate. I can catalogue your features and describe the traits of the object of my love. But that hardly tells the story. No part of me singled you out. It was all of me. It must be intuition — or chance, as the thunderbolt selects the object it will destroy. The shaft flies through space. It strikes. Who guides it? What guides it? Sometimes the course of love's shaft is straight, swift, and sudden. It may dally along the way for years before it strikes. Love is subtle, my dear — full of moods and whims. As delicate, and as strong, as a silken web. Do you think it well to dissect it?”