Love Is Quotes
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Love elevates. Love is what you live for.
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The only real rival of love is Art, for that in itself is a deep personal passion, its function an act of creation, fed by some mysterious perversion of sex, and demanding all the imagination's activities.
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Love is beauty and beauty is truth, and that is why in the beauty of a flower we can see the truth of the universe.
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Love is like that, fragile and light. No wonder it rests upon our hearts in intangible moments, bids us follow fleeting thoughts and ideas and pursue our abstract imaginings.
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Every field and flower fades, but love is infinite.
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Love is when two people who care for each other get confused.
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Love is a friendship set to music.
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Love is like life-merely longer.
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Love's all in all to women.
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Love is always in danger of being sentimentalized.
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Why so much hate in your mind when love is the only way to straighten things out?
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The secret of the mystery is: God is always greater. No matter how great we think Him to be, His love is always greater.
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For, just as in the beginning it is formed by desire, so afterwards love is kept in existence only by painful anxiety.
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Love is Stronger. Love and hope are conjoined, if you separate one, you kill the other. If hope survives then love endures. Where even a sliver of love exists, the thinnest of hopes has room to grow.
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Love is like death. It is fulfillment and an evening after which nothing more may follow.
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Love is neither a conditional business nor an ever-fixed mark arrangement. People always know somewhere inside them if they are not loved. No gestures, talk, conciliation, pronouncements can prevail over that deep instinctual knowledge.
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Love is like the wind, you can’t see it but you can feel it.
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Love is born in fire, is planted like a seed. Love cannot give you everything, but it gives you what you need.
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Love is the business of the idle, but the idleness of the busy.
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To love is not to look at one another: it is to look, together, in the same direction.
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Kisses kept are wasted; Love is to be tasted. There are some you love, I know; Be not loathe to tell them so. Lips go dry and eyes grow wet Waiting to be warmly met. Keep them not in waiting yet; Kisses kept are wasted.
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Love is hurt with jar and fret; Love is made a vague regret.
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Love is of something, and that which love desires is not that which love is or has; for no man desires that which he is or has. And love is of the beautiful, and therefore has not the beautiful. And the beautiful is the good, and therefore, in wanting and desiring the beautiful, love also wants and desires the good.
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How can we have the courage to wish to live, how can we make a movement to preserve ourselves from death, in a world where love is provoked by a lie and consists solely in the need of having our sufferings appeased by whatever being has made us suffer?
